Danger, Danger!
by Jamie Hook
Summary: Rogue and Remy happened to be at the right place at the right time to fall in flirtation at first sight. And Rogue happens to be at the wrong place at the wrong time every time Gambit's secret stalker decides things would be better without her in the way.
1. Fire in the Disco!

_Sooo hey guys..__I was going to wait until Only the Good was finished before I posted this, but I can't type…so, prewritten, for your reading pleasure, ladies and gentlemen, Danger, Danger._

_I'm not gonna lie: this story gets kinda creepy. I creeped myself out as I was writing.  
__AND. IT. WAS. AWESOME._

_This is set in the 'Jamie-verse', which has a few rules. Ahem:_

_1. You do not talk about X3 or Origins.  
2. You DO NOT talk about X3 or Origins.  
3. I will make whoever I want an X-man.  
4. I will give said bastards any nicknames I see fit, because like hell am I typing up 'Martinique' 50 times a chapter._

_You guys go ahead and tell me if this chapter is too long, and I'll chop it up into three pieces lickety-split._

**

* * *

**_**"Danger! Danger! High Voltage! When we touch, when we kiss!" –'Danger! High Voltage!' Electric Six.**_

* * *

_1. Fire in the Disco! _

"The Danger Room is not going to wait for you to get back up. The Danger Room is not going to be gentle with you. The Danger Room is not going to have mercy. For all intents and purposes The Danger Room is your enemy. No one is going to be next to you to pull your candy-ass out of the way. This may be a simulation, but it's a simulation of _life. _If you can't make it in here, you aren't going to be able to make it out in the real world, so you better just thank the Lord that when we scrape you off the walls in here, you get a chance to get up and_ do it all over again._"

Thus went their introduction to the Danger Room.

Rogue was caught between swallowing a confident grin and swallowing a half-hysterical giggle from her spot in the back of the group of ten students of the Xavier Institute for Gifted Youngsters. Either way, she swallowed hard.

"Uh…" Kitty Pryde looked up at Logan, shaky laugh escaping her lips nervously. "Are you sure we're ready for this?" She looked around at her classmates with an air of naivety surrounding her.

"Well, we're about to find out, aren't we?" Logan smiled dangerously.

"Logan." Charles Xavier interrupted. "Thank you for that. We'll talk about introducing students to the Danger Room without traumatizing them later."

"Your loss." Logan shrugged from his position in front of a small group of collected students.

"What Logan was trying to say," Xavier cleared his throat and worked to salvage the situation. "Is that the Danger Room is here to challenge you in much the same way that conflicts you encounter as X-men will. It is true that the Danger Room is set up to attack you and hopefully prompt a counter-reaction from you as the participant. However, the Danger Room will not, under any circumstances, cause any fatal injuries. You may walk out of here with cuts and bruises, but the point is, you will still walk out." He smiled encouragingly.

Kitty calmed visibly.

"Probably." Logan added.

Kitty paled and Xavier was reduced to pinching the bridge of his nose.

Rogue had stayed at the back for this entire orientation, staying characteristically quiet throughout the briefing. She was brooding, much like she usually did when no one was paying attention to her. She brooded about a lot of things. Her mutation. Her boyfriend. The girl her boyfriend was cheating on her with. The man she would rather be hugging when she hugged her boyfriend. Things like that.

As soon as she noticed Bobby, aforementioned 'Boyfriend', looking at her she slapped on her usual smile.

Kitty, aforementioned 'Girl her boyfriend was cheating on her with' whined again from her spot in front of the group.

"Suck it up," Logan, aforementioned 'man she would rather be hugging when she hugged her boyfriend', rolled his eyes at Kitty.

A genuine smirk flitted across her lips at this and she snorted a bit. Very unladylike. She reorganized herself back into a small, polite small.

"You alright?" Bobby whispered to her as Logan and Xavier got into a small debate over whether fear or nurturing was the best way to raise children.

"Peachy keen." She smiled at him. The same polite smile she always wore. In fact, she couldn't remember a time were the soft curve hadn't graced her lips.

…Well, there was that one time where she had almost attacked Magneto on the X-Jet, but she didn't really think that counted. She'd lost control of herself for a moment. It wasn't something she planned on letting happen again.

"Are you sure, babe?" Bobby asked again, putting a hand on her shoulder.

It would have been rude to shrug the hand away, but she found herself wanting to anyway.

"I'm fine." She insisted. "Just got a lot on my mind."

She wished he wouldn't call her babe.

She smiled anyway.

Lucky for her, the Wolverine had picked up a knack for sensing when she was upset. It was one of the things she liked the most about him.

"You alright, kid?" Logan glanced over at her, having a free moment in his debate now that Xavier had to surrender so that he could talk Kitty out of hyperventilating.

She wished he wouldn't call her kid.

She smiled anyway.

"Ah'm fine." There was a small spike in her accent. She never really lost her temper. She'd found that the small hitch in her speech pattern was the first sign that it might happen, so she set about calming herself.

"No you're not." Logan stated. That was another thing she liked about him. He made a statement. He hadn't asked her again, he'd introduced fact which, at the same time, was a demand for the truth.

Her brow furrowed. Some of her brooding showed across her features. How could 'the man she'd rather be hugging' not know she liked him? How could her 'boyfriend' not know she knew he was cheating? How could the 'girl her boyfriend was cheating on her with' be so… _obnoxiously innocent?_

She took a deep breath and recomposed herself.

"Just a little worried about running my first Danger Room simulation, is all." She lied. It was a habit she couldn't break at this point.

Logan looked a little skeptical but Bobby accepted this easily.

She smiled anyway.

"Let's get started, shall we?" She offered.

"As soon as Pryde sucks it up." Logan shot a glare over at the barely recovered girl in the front, who relapsed back into near-hyperventilation.

Xavier internally questioned why he let this man near students.

"I got it." Bobby said, walking forward to Kitty's side. He put his cold hand on the back of her neck and whispered in her ear until she calmed down enough to smile at him sweetly.

Rogue's teeth ground together the slightest amount. _I should tear them to shreds. _She thought vehemently.

Her eyes widened as she noticed her response. She cleared her throat awkwardly and rolled her shoulders in an attempt to relax.

"You want me to beat him up fer you, kid?" Logan grinned at her, obviously overhearing her teeth wearing against each other.

_Does he have to call me that? _She bit the inside of her cheek to keep herself from gritting her teeth again. It made her feel like a child.

"Nah," She dismissed with a soft breath. Her brooding flitted across her face again. Did they really think she was dumb enough not to see? How was _Logan_ dumb enough not to see?

"You know I'm always here if you need someone." He told her firmly, seeing the furrow in her brows and the downturn of her lips.

She paused to think about that one, and though she disagreed she smiled anyway. "I know you are." She lied. Nothing about that man was a guarantee. She could _hope _that he'd be there for her if she really needed him, but not even a Rogue could tie down a feral. And that was where any 'crush' she had on him simply turned into a pain in her chest that reminded her he'd rather be riding a motorcycle or –God forbid- Jean, than spending more time than he already did with her. "I know." She repeated, reaching out and gently putting a hand on his shoulder, swallowing down a grimace and a few well chosen statements she wanted to blurt out.

Logan nodded curtly, having had his fill of that sort of 'sentimental' nonsense for the day.

"We ready?" He turned around and barked at the students.

All of them, including Kitty, nodded readily.

"Good." He allowed. "C'mon, Chuck." He started to walk out the sliding door, their first simulation being an independent one.

"Wait!" Kitty called. "Who's running the simulation?" She asked quickly, lest she inspire Logan's wrath again.

"Some newer students are being trained on how to run the technical aspects of the institute." Xavier responded before Logan could. "There are two particular young ladies who will running it today, but you have nothing to worry about." He assured her. "Logan and I will be up in the observation deck the entire time. If anything goes wrong, which is highly unlikely, we will intervene directly."

Kitty took a deep, calming breath and nodded, setting herself into a determined stance.

Xavier smiled pleasantly as he wheeled himself out, closely followed by Logan.

"You guys ready for this?" Bobby rolled his shoulders, eager to get his hands dirty in his first simulation.

"Baby, I was _born _ready." Tabitha Smith quipped, equally, if not _more_ eager to blow some things up.

Piotr Rasputin, Jubilation Lee, Ray Crisp, Roberto DeCosta, Rahne Sinclaire, and Sam Gurthie all took large steps away from her.

Rogue lost herself in brooding once more. Too many relationships for her to keep track of. Too many different faces she had to put on for too many different people. One of these days she felt like she was just going to snap. Just like she almost did in the X-Jet with Magneto.

"Simulation starts in three," A feminine voice broadcast from the control booth, probably the new student who was running the simulation today, jerking Rogue out of her thoughts.

"Alright, everyone." Bobby took control easily.

"Two."

"Shadowcat, you're with me. Jubilee, you stay with Colossus. Sunspot, you're with Magma. Cannonball and Berserker. That leaves Rogue with Boom-Boom." Bobby spit out orders.

"One."

Rogue opened her mouth to protest, sending a look at Tabitha, aka Boom-Boom, who was rubbing her hands together and chuckling mischievously. Why couldn't she be paired with her boyfriend? Or someone she liked? Or… anyone who wasn't Tabby…? Tabitha Smith was a loose cannon. No, loose cannons were Tabitha Smith if they were lucky. Tabitha Smith was a loose nuclear war head. One that Rogue was uneasy to be anywhere near.

_She's gonna get me killed! _Rogue couldn't help the ragged breaths that seemed to be wracking her chest all of the sudden.

"Start."

The stainless steel world she was trapped in at the moment shimmered and melted away, replaced by a desolate dystopian setting.

At the very end of the street she was now stranded on towered what had been simply nicknamed 'The Sentinel'.

* * *

"And down here is where the Danger Room and medical facilities are located." Ororo Munroe explained as she led the newest inductee of the Xavier Institute for Gifted Youngsters through the basic walk-through of the grounds.

She had to look over her shoulder to make sure the young man was still ambling along behind her. It would have been easier to keep track of him if he made a little noise when he walked, but what could she do?

When he caught her looking he flashed her a grin and gave her a nod.

He nodded, but she got the feeling he wasn't really paying attention to her. That maybe behind those dark sun glasses his eyes were wandering.

"This is where the X-men train." She offered up, hoping to catch his attention.

Her mission was a partial success.

"That a fact?" He inquired as he inspected the suits on display against the wall.

"That is a fact, Gambit." Ororo smiled, happy for any sort of reaction at all. "In fact, I think the newest members are just about to run their first simulation if you'd like to sit in for a few minutes." She suggested.

He looked around at her, his auburn hair falling in front of his glasses, adding yet another layer between the world and whatever he was hiding underneath the dark lenses. The vaguest look of interest crossed his features.

"Sure." He shrugged after a moment.

"Follow me," She smiled, ushering him forward with one had.

He nodded again and bowed in a flourishing motion, extending his arm in a silent request for her to lead the way. He hadn't spoken much verbally, but his body language spoke volumes.

"Flirt." Ororo accused as she passed him.

"Can't help it, _cher._" Gambit grinned at her.

Ororo snorted and ushered him after her, filling him in on the minor details of the mansion as they ascended the stairs, absolutely positive that he wasn't listening.

"And here we are," Ororo smiled as she opened the door to the booth.

"Hi, Ms. Munroe." The girl at the controls called without turning around.

"Hi, Ms. Munroe." The girl sitting next to her echoed. From behind they looked identical.

"Marty, Regan!" Ororo snipped in a reproving tone. "Aren't you going to greet our new guest?" She demanded.

The two blondes cast a mildly uninterested look over their shoulders. Their eyes widened when they landed on the masculine figure standing to Ororo's left leaning back coolly in his standing position. The shaggy tawny hair that shaded his shades, the smirk that curved across his lips, the stubble that lay scattered across his cheeks, the shirt that stressed across his toned chest, and the hint of a smoldering fire behind his black sunglasses gave a very distinct impression. Maybe it was his looks that attracted their attention, but more likely it was the air of 'Danger' that surrounded him.

There was a scramble to see who could get out of their seat first.

"Hi!" One blond pushed in front of the other, bouncing up to Gambit. "I'm Regan Wyngard. You can call me Lady Mastermind if you'd like." She grinned at him with sharp teeth. "This is my sister."

"Martinique Jason." The other blond stepped forward and smirked at Gambit flirtatiously. "You can call me Marty, or Mastermind II." She put her hand on her hip, wishing to draw out some sort of reaction from the man in front of her. "And you'd be?" She inquired with a tone in her voice that was downright suggestive.

"Remy LeBeau," He smiled charmingly, good humor practically oozing off of him. "But, please, call me Gambit." He requested, bending forward to plant a light kiss on the back of both of their hands.

The sisters smirked, both pleased with the attention, secretly swooning at his gentlemanly approach.

Ororo rolled her eyes. "Ahem!" She coughed loudly, interrupting.

"I didn' forget about y', Stormy." Remy laughed as he turned back to the weather witch. However, something caught his eye as he turned, stopping him dead and forcing him to miss Storm's sharp 'Don't call me 'Stormy''.

The security camera was small and sleek, firmly set in the wall in a fashion that would have normally made it impossible to spot. But, then again, not all eyes were as trained as Remy's to spot security. The only wonder was how he had missed on his first look around the room. He'd have to be more careful from now on. He glared at it for a few moments, committing every detail to memory so as to be able to recognize any other he stumbled across. Old habits and all.

"Gambit?" Ororo called to him after a few seconds of distraction.

"Sorry, Stormy_._" Remy shook himself. "Got sidetracked. Now, please," He changed the subject. "Share with me this infamous Danger Room."

"I'll show him!" The two girls volunteered at the same time. They paused in their appraisal of Remy only to glare at each other.

"Bitch." Marty shot at Regan.

"Slut."

"Attention-whore."

"Garden-variety whore."

"I hate you."

"I hope you die in a pit."

"Sisters." Ororo shrugged, her voice holding a tone of weariness that suggested that these sorts of spats between the two were frequent and unstoppable. "Come." She reached for Remy's elbow and ushered him towards the windows.

Remy could make out a dozen figures crowded together on the ground below; one in particular seemed to be commanding their attention as he gave a speech about how the Danger Room was their enemy. Remy thought about tuning in for about a half a second before something more interesting caught his eye. And, not surprisingly, it looked positively fantastic in a skin-tight leather suit.

His covered eyes traveled up the back of her legs, over the curve of her hips, across the small of her back and up the length of her spine.

And he enjoyed every damn second of it.

She turned sharply once as the gruff man at the front spat out a 'Suck it up' to a petite brunette and Remy had time enough to admire the spark in her green eyes and appraise the white stripe in her dark hair before she bit her lip, sucked down her smile and turned her chin back to the ground.

The only thing he didn't like was the hunch of her shoulders. Her arms braced across her chest. Her chin bowed down, eyes turned to the ground. Was she _brooding?_

_Tut, tut. _He thought to himself. _A girl who looks like that should never have to worry about a thing._

A tall blond boy standing close to her leant over and whispered something to her as the burly man in the front started to argue with Xavier, who Remy had already been introduced to prior to his arrival. Though he couldn't hear the conversation, he could see the words written out across the boy's face.

He was asking her if she was alright.

The girl turned to the boy so that Remy had a clear view of her face again. A feeling of disgust twisted his stomach. Her eyes, which he had been sure he had seen a spark of mischief in not even a second ago, looked… dull. Dead. Glazed. Glassy. Controlled.

_They match her smile. _Remy thought distastefully as the girl smiled and nodded at the boy and mumbled something in response. What could he do? Girls with 'attitude' were a dime a dozen. Girls with 'personality' could be found in any coffee shop, huddled in the corner, drawing. But, girls with a 'spark'… a sharp edge to her tongue, a cocky curve to her lips, a fire in her heart, and a bone to pick with the world… well; he'd only ever met one girl with a spark before. He couldn't help but hanker for another now that she was dead and gone.

A girl like…

Him.

And he couldn't help but be disappointed every time he didn't find one.

A bitter taste was left in his mouth as he rolled the word '_dull' _over in his mind.

The boy asked her if she was sure, putting a tender hand on her shoulder.

She nodded again, the mildest annoyance curving her lips. She hid it well.

The burly man who had been standing at the front noticed, though. He asked the same question of her the blond kid had.

The smallest hint of vexation wrinkled her brow, but again, she recovered quickly and assured him she was fine.

He called her out on it. For a moment she looked at the black haired man with the cigar and Remy finally started to understand a little bit of what was going on. The girl had a thing for this feral-looking man.

_No accounting for taste. _Remy snorted to himself.

"Something funny?" Ororo looked over at him.

"Yes and no." Remy answered. "Who is that?" He stuck his chin out in the girl's direction, fingers busy cutting a deck of cards he hadn't even realized he had gotten out. He wondered for a moment if he actually wanted to know her name, or if it was just better to disengage himself at the word 'dull'.

"Oh." Ororo spoke once she followed his line of sight. "That's Rogue. She's been a student here for about six months."

"And the _hommes_ she's speakin' t'?" He inquired again.

"The one with the cigar is Logan. You'll probably meet him soon." Storm nodded. "And the tall one is Bobby Drake, Rogue's _boyfriend_." He noted the emphasis on the last word.

_Boyfriend? _Remy practically barked with laughter. _The plot thickens._

"As soon as Pryde sucks it up." Someone snapped down below, sharply bringing Remy's attention back down to the floor. The little brunette in the front of the group seemed to be having a panic attack under 'Logan's' glare.

"I got it." Bobby volunteered, stepping forward and holding the brunette close, whispering into her ear until her breathing regulated. A sort of secret passed between them as the brunette looked up at him and smiled.

Remy's eyes flicked back to Rogue, wondering if she had noticed. Not only had she noticed, Logan had noticed as well.

_Hot damn. _Remy smirked. _What a curious little love-polygon I've stumbled upon._

During the seconds he had taken to study this Bobby character's interaction with the brunette in the front he had apparently missed some sort of significant exchange between Rogue and Logan. They both seemed to be in a worse mood for it.

"We ready?" Logan barked at the students. They nodded their heads violently at his tone. "Good." He grumbled. "C'mon, Chuck." He nodded his head to the man in the wheel chair.

"Finally." Remy muttered underneath his breath. He had been standing there for two minutes and approximately null had happened in the room below.

"Wait!" The brunette in the front who had been causing all of the delays shouted.

"_Enfer." _Remy rubbed his hand over his forehead.

"Who's running the simulation?" She asked quickly, hands under her chin in a sign of fretting. Remy prepared to tune himself out.

"_Ow!" _Someone shrieked from behind him. He whipped around to see Marty hopping up and down, clutching her arm. Regan had a grin spread across her lips that could have only been described as 'malicious'. "You bit me!" She accused of Regan before sucker-punching her in the boob.

"Ow!" Regan hissed before slapping Marty's exposed arm with a sharp _snap_ping sound.

"You certified spaz!"Marty gasped out, furiously rubbing the red hand print on her arm.

"Floozy skank!" Regan shot back, massaging her chest tenderly.

"Burn at the stake!"

"Choke to death!"

"It's best just to ignore them." Ororo advised Remy.

"If you say so." Remy said dubiously.

The sound of the automatic door hissing open cut off the sisters bickering. The gruff man known as Logan swaggered on in, chewing on an unlit cigar, closely followed by Charles Xavier who had an uncharacteristic scowl on his brow which seemed to be directed at the feral man in front of him.

"Couldn't you practice the smallest hint of self-control?" Charles inquired.

"Tried it once." Logan threw over his shoulder. "Didn't like it."

Xavier sighed once before he seemed to notice Remy's presence. A friendly smile was immediately present on his face. "Mr. LeBeau," He greeted. "Sitting in on a Danger Room session?"

"If it ever gets started." Remy quipped. He didn't strictly _like _Xavier, but he was willing to give the man the smallest amount of lenience in his normally suspicious nature simply for the fact that his house and heart were open to any less fortunate soul. Normally, Remy would have found this to be a character flaw. An open invitation for said less fortunate to waltz in and trample about, but it was undeniably obvious from the hard, intelligent glint in his eye that, a dreamer he may be, Charles Xavier was not a man to cross.

Xavier chuckled appreciatively. "Have you been introduced to Logan yet?" He asked.

"Not directly." Remy grinned, though he really felt like grimacing as he held out his hand to the gruff man. At first glance he really didn't seem like anything other than an aggressive Canadian. That's because, as far as Remy could tell, there wasn't much more to him than that.

_What does that girl see in him? _Remy wondered as Logan gripped his hand firmly.

"Logan." Logan grunted at the younger man as an introduction. It caught Remy's attention how he sniffed the air sharply, as if in an attempt to smell out any inconclusive facts about Remy.

"Gambit." Remy returned the nod, attempting not to grit his teeth with displeasure.

"We ready to run this thing?" Logan growled at the two blondes once he had relinquished Remy's grip.

"The question is: Is this thing ready for me?" Regan smirked deviously.

"Isn't that always the question?" Marty grinned right along with her sister, their good looks complimenting each other now that they had reached a more sedate mood with one another.

"Give 'em a countdown." Logan instructed.

"Simulation starts in three," Regan stated clearly into a microphone perched on the circuit board in front of her. "Three."

"Alright, everyone." Remy swung his attention back out the window just in time to see Bobby step forward and take control.

"Two." Regan chirped, tone almost sardonic.

"Shadowcat, you're with me. Jubilee, you stay with Colossus. Sunspot, you're with Magma. Cannonball and Berserker. That leaves Rogue with Boom-Boom." Bobby bit off; making sure each person below had orders clear. Remy saw Rogue glance at a bleach blond who was rubbing her hand together mischievously, a look of chaos surrounding her. Remy assumed this girl to be 'Boom-Boom'.

"One."

Rogue's face paled and she opened her mouth as if to protest. But, it looked like she was choking on the words. She bit her lip and her eyes widened with panic as she sent another look at Boom-Boom.

This was Remy's first clue something wasn't right. Things were already in motion for calamity.

_Speak up. _He mentally commanded her, unwilling to stand up for her if she was unwilling to stand up for herself. _Spit it out. What's wrong?_

"Start."

She looked around in a frenzy as the walls shifted into what seemed to be a dirty urban street.

Looming at the other end of the street was what appeared to be some sort of iron giant.

* * *

"C'mon!" Boom-Boom shouted as she charged towards The Sentinel, grabbing Rogue's arm in a bruising grip as she went. "You're on _my _team!"

"No, no, no! Tabby! Tabby, listen to me!" Rogue tried to reason with the girl as The Sentinel locked in on their movements and she pried at the fingers wrapped around her upper arm.

"Rogue!" Bobby shouted from behind her. "What are you doing?"

_How the hell is this _my _fault? _She thought wildly. _Tabby_ was dragging her! _He _had paired her up with the crazy girl! This was in no way, shape or form _her _fault.

"_Target acquired." _A robotic voice echoed from the depths of the Sentinel's mechanical throat. _"Identified: Mutants. Directive: Apprehend."_

Boom-Boom cackled insanely, the hand she wasn't using to drag Rogue along with her filling with what appeared to be small orbs that pulsed a glowing orange.

"Looks like you could use some Bada-Bing," She shouted as she hurled the small explosives. "Bada-_Boom._" The small orbs combusted violently against the Sentinel's chest.

"_Reevaluating data." _The Sentinel broadcast. "_Subduing resisting mutants."_

"Alright!" Tabby screamed. "Bring it!"

"Tabby!" Rogue had set about simply clawing at the girl's grip. "This isn't a game, Tabby!"

"I beg to differ!" Boom-Boom grinned down at her, obviously having only paid attention to the last five words Rogue had spoken. "Now, how 'bout we make it rain, huh?" She grinned insanely, summoning more little orbs in her free hand.

Rogue's eyes went wide. The street rocked with tremors as the Sentinel stepped forward heavily, drawing out weapons. She felt so _useless_. Panic started to corrupt her breathing and anger gritted her teeth together.

She threw a look over her shoulder.

"Take her out!" Bobby shouted at her. "She's endangering the mission!"

"I can't!" They were too close to the Sentinel; she wouldn't be able to drag herself _and _Tabby out of the way in time.

"Just do it!" Bobby barked as the Sentinel leveled an intense looking weapon at the two of them, the other participants of the simulation were scrambling to catch up.

Rogue winced at being spoken to in such a way in such a sensitive situation, but squared off her jaw and ripped her glove off with her teeth, all the while replaying the professor's words about the Danger Room not causing fatal injuries.

She slapped her hand onto Tabby's bare face.

An intense pain ripped through her every cell as everything that made Tabitha 'Tabitha' leaked over into Rogue. A scream tore itself messily from the both of them and after a few seconds, not even a full moment, Tabby dropped to the ground, unconscious.

"Ah!" Rogue gasped. Her hands were on fire. Her _hands _were on _fire!_

"_Location locked." _The Sentinel decreed in monotone. "_Firing."_

The shot connected with Rogue square in the chest as she was distracted by the pain. Her hands were on fire. Her hands… pain …fire… burning. The shot was simply a blunted force, but it was enough to send her tumbling backwards.

There was a sharp _crack _as the back of her skull connected with the asphalt. The world turned into a smear of colors for a moment as there was an explosion of white hot pain behind her eyeballs. A chilling sensation spilled across her, originating from the back of her head.

"Rogue!" Bobby shouted, finally reaching her side. Colossus stepped in front of the two of them, steeling over to provide the scantest amount of protection as Cannonball and Sunspot took on the Sentinel directly and Jubilee hurled fireworks in its general direction. The Sentinel was returning fire nearly hit for hit. Kitty kneeled on Rogue's other side.

"Ow…" Rogue muttered, curling into a ball.

"What's wrong?" Bobby asked soothingly.

"Hands…" Rogue was able to grit out as the new pain in her head competed with the fire in her hands.

"What's wrong with her hands?" Kitty fretted, her own hands fluttering uselessly.

"Fire." Rogue ground out.

"What?" Kitty breathed.

"Fire!" Rogue screamed as the pain kicked up another notch. She began to struggle to sit up.

"You should really stay down." Kitty advised, pushing her down by the shoulders.

"But, mah hands." Rogue clenched her fingers into fists, pain and anger forcing her accent to the forefront of her tongue. She could feel the pain concentrating in her palms.

"No." Bobby interrupted. "Kitty's right, Rogue. You stay down." He dismissed as he stood. "_We'll _take care of this." He pointedly implied she was worthless. In all fairness, maybe that hadn't been his meaning, but that was the interpretation.

It was in that moment the something snapped.

Everything piled up against her. It was the roar of battle in the background. It was Tabitha's thoughts stumbling around in her head. It was the bitter thoughts of Logan left over from a few moments ago. The ghost of the warmth of skin on her palm. The blaze of pain building under her skin. The chill that continued to work its way across her body. The pain that the chill barely covered.

It was Piotr standing in front of her.

It was Kitty pushing her back down to the ground.

It was Bobby telling her to stay down, that he would take care of it.

It was the fact she had stayed down.

Some part of Rogue that felt pain and anger simply… shattered.

It cracked, creaked, and finally gave way to a new emotion that she couldn't quite identify. The closest she could relate it to was that day on the X-Jet where she had wanted nothing more than to tear out Magneto's throat.

Not anger.

Like… freedom.

"_Tah hell with this." _She snarled, smile nowhere to be found. In fact, at that particular moment if her smile had been a physical entity she would have crushed it to dust with her bare hands.

In the time it took her to stumble into a semi-upright position, clutching her scorching fists to her chest, ignoring the wet feeling of cold slipping down the back of her head, Sunspot, Cannonball, and Jubilee were all sent crashing to the ground.

"Ah have had it with this," Rogue growled out as she continued to stumble forward, tipping forward before caching herself. It vaguely registered that the back of her head was starting to warm up and the back of her uniform was slick with something. "Ah've had it with bein' nice." She peeled off her other glove. "An' sweet." She started to rub her hands together; still staggering forward."An' _calm, _an' _cool, _an' _understandin'_, an' _Ah have had it with bein' shot at!" _She screeched as another blunted shot rocketed past her, nearly clipping her shoulder.

She ripped her hands apart, exposing the single, tennis ball sized orange orb that had been forming between her bare hands and she hurled it at The Sentinel.

The force of the explosion caused the metal giant to stumble back a few steps.

"_Calculating damage." _The voice echoed from the machine. "_Non-critical. Eliminating threat."_

There were a plethora of voices in the back of Rogue's head that were telling her what to do, growing louder to respond to the rush of adrenaline that assaulted her system.

_Move! _One of them barked as the Sentinel loaded up a non-blunted round.

"Aw, hell!" Rogue spat as she sprang forward, using her hands to vault herself out of the way of the projectile. She fumbled the landing though, knees collapsing underneath of her, head throbbing with barely suppressed pain. "Ah!" She gasped, flopping over once with extra momentum, vision swimming with pain as she bumped her head lightly.

"_Acquiring mutant." _The metallic voice rang out and the first thing that Rogue saw when her vision cleared was a giant metal hand reaching towards her.

"_Sonova-_!" She shouted out as the hand closed around her abdomen. She struggled futilely against the steel grip as she was raised off the ground until she was about eye-level with the Sentinel.

"_Subduing mutant." _The cold voice broadcast.

"Sugah," Rogue glared up at the Sentinel, rage filling up the center of her chest, her clear green eyes seething with fire. A small orange light radiated from the palms of her hands. "Ah just don't think you can handle me."

She hurled at least a dozen of the small pulsing orbs straight at the Sentinel's 'head'.

The orbs burst with stunning effects, flames pouring out of the creators left in the Sentinel's 'face'. His 'eye' crumbled into dust and destruction, his lower 'lip' shredded to reveal a mess of wires underneath, the rest of his 'jaw' sloughing off with it. Smoke billowed from the crevices created, generating the impression that the damaged face was breathing fire.

"_Cal- calculating d-d-damage." _The broken voice ground out. "_Crit-critical. Rec-c-covery unlikely. Systems p-powering d-d-down." _The light in the center of the giant's chest shut off.

"_Ah!" _Rogue screamed as loud as she physically could as she attempted to kick her way out of the hand's grip. The Sentinel started to collapse to the ground with her still trapped between its fingers. The harder she struggled the more her head throbbed and her hands burned until the world started to blur and the lights started to dim.

A tremor rocked through The Sentinel's lifeless body as its torso collided with the floor, its outstretched arm would be soon to follow.

As her supply of air finally gave and her screaming tapered off the only thing she could think was the few words Logan had stated clearly earlier. '_The Danger Room is your enemy.'_

A hand that she could barely feel wrapped around her upper arm and she was wrenched out of the Sentinel's clutch at the last second.

Sam tucked Rogue into his chest as they rocketed away from The Sentinel, twisting underneath of her as they arched to the ground, taking the brunt of the impact as they skidded to a stop.

"You alright?" He asked of the girl in his arms when they had finally reached a stand-still.

Had it been any other time he would have been complimented on his quick thinking, shooting up to grab Rogue not even seconds before she would have been maybe fatally injured. But, now was not any other time.

"Oh, God." Sam stifled a gag as he looked down at his hand that had cupped the back of Rogue's head.

"What's wrong, sug?" Rogue mumbled, not really knowing who she was talking to.

"Nothin'!" Sam quickly amended, not wanting to distress her.

"Are you alright?" Kitty called as she sprinted up to them.

"Do I look alright?" Rogue groaned out, pushing her way out of Sam's arms and into a shaky standing position. In the distance she could make out a voice saying something like 'Simulation terminated.' The street melted back into a stainless steel room.

"No…" Kitty allowed, acknowledging her question had been a dumb one.

"Rogue!" Bobby called, jogging up to his girlfriend. Rogue looked up at him, squinting her eyes to make him out amongst her smearing world. "Are you okay?"

"Fine, hun." She mumbled more to herself than anything as she couldn't tell faces apart any more. "Just peachy." She stumbled into the wall.

"Professor!" Jubilee shouted up to the control booth as she helped support Rogue. "We have a problem!"

"Problem nothin'." Rogue dismissed with a snort, shoving the girl off of her. "I'll be fine." She insisted, laying her back against the wall and sliding down into a sitting position.

A thick trail of blood followed the back of her head all the way down.

* * *

"Oh, goddess." Ororo put her hand over her mouth and paled as she watched Rogue sink to the ground. The blood of one of her students smeared down the wall nearly made her stomach churn.

Her eyes flicked over to Gambit as Xavier barked out orders for Logan to go collect Rogue and take her to the med bay. The Institute must have been making a horrible impression on him so far. It had been her suggestion that they sit in on the Danger Room session. She had practically suggested they watch one of his future peers get maimed.

The boy was probably already mentally packing his bags.

However, she couldn't have been more wrong.

Remy stood, stunned. One hand pressed against the glass. His confusion outweighed his concern as he looked around at all the damage she had caused. His mind was working at a million miles a minute, trying to figure the girl out.

It was as if he had asked for a spark and received a barely concealed inferno. Blazing underneath that girl's dull mask was an ember fueled by righteous indignation and spiteful suffering that far out shone anything he had yet encountered.

_How did I miss that? _He asked himself, still watching her as the burly Wolverine lifted her, bridal style and hurriedly but gently carried the girl out into the hall and then, presumably, to the medical wing.

She hid that fire well.

Remy replayed a half second of the seething in her eyes and listened to the words she had spit out in the face of defeat.

'_Sugah, I just don't think you can handle me.'_

Remy smirked as he thought about how, under different circumstances, he would love to hear her say that to him.

And that's when it happened. That's when it became his determined mission to rip that dull mask away and expose the spark hidden underneath.

That's when it became his determined mission to expose _her._

"Uh…" Ororo coughed awkwardly. "Perhaps this would be a good time to show you the medical wing?" She offered in a last ditch effort to salvage what was quickly becoming a disastrous first impression.

"I would like nothin' more." He smiled and offered his arm to her. And his words were absolutely true because if the medical wing was where this 'rogue' was, who was he to pass up the opportunity try and figure out her secrets?

_

* * *

_

After the lights in the observation booth had been turned off and most everyone had vacated the area, one of the screens flicked on, the light from the monitor thrown across the floor.

_The correct codes were keyed in to hack into the security system._

_Files were sorted through until the correct one was selected. The one for the Observation Booth, earlier that afternoon._

_The video feed from the security camera perched on top of the door was sorted through._

_She watched carefully as each second passed by._

_She could have sworn he had looked right at her. At the time it had seemed silly. He was just another man. People looked at her all the time. But, as she continued to watch him, this 'Gambit', she started to notice things._

_Maybe it was the ratio of the length of his shoulders to the width of his hips, which was ideal. Maybe it was the obvious muscle mass that his shirt was forced to stretch over, which was appealing in a potential mate. Maybe it was the symmetry of his face, the signs of good genes. Maybe it was something else altogether, something strange and mysterious and appealing that she couldn't quite put her finger on. _

_But, soon enough she found herself 'smitten' with this man. An odd occurrence, especially for her. As far as she was aware she wasn't allowed to love. She didn't think she could conjure the emotions necessary. Which made this entire ordeal such a shock, but she was absolutely sure she was right. _

_After all, she had never been wrong before. _

_And if this Gambit fellow didn't see it yet, she'd just have to help him along a little bit. _

There!

_The video ground to an abrupt halt. There it was. He was staring right at her._

_That had to be a sign._

_That _had _to be!_

_

* * *

_

(JAMIE: Shiiiiit, right? This is gonna get intense. I'd like to take this opportunity to give myself a pat on the back, because as far as I can tell, there is nothing quite like this out there. (If there is, don't tell me. Just let me have this moment.))

_Oh! And chapters are all going to be named after Electric Six lyrics. Mostly Danger! High Voltage! But also some Dance Commander. Maybe some Future is in The Future. I haven't decided yet. (It's Showtime? Hmmm…) The first one who figures out the riddles I'm gonna putting in the titles gets a high five! _


	2. Don't you want to know

_Happy Wednesday! (That means you get an update from Danger, Danger! fyi :D)_

_

* * *

_

2. _Don't you want to know-_

"Ah swear tah all that is good and holy in this world, Hank, if you shine that light in mah eyes one more time…"

Logan smirked to himself as he listened to the distinct southern twang of Rogue's voice as it slammed into his ears with more force than he had ever heard her say anything else before.

"Would you just…" The large furry Beast known as Dr. Hank McCoy sighed roughly as he attempted to examine Rogue. Emphasis on _attempted, _because he was having a hard time with actually getting his hands on her long enough to do any good. "_Hold still!" _ He finished in a mild hiss.

Rogue snarled and lashed out at the penlight in his hand again weakly.

"She's wearing out." Logan observed.

"Good." Hank grunted with frustration. "I was considering sedating her." Rogue finally gave one huff of surrender and went limp on the examination table, panting from all of her recent outbursts. "Are we ready to be examined?" Hank asked dubiously.

Rogue grumbled out something that sounded like a begrudging affirmative.

"Good." Hank said again, clicking his penlight on. After running it over her eyes a few times he clicked it again and sheathed it in his pocket. "Follow my finger." He instructed, holding his hand in front of her eyes.

"Alright." Rogue slurred, attempting to keep a lock on his hand as he moved it from side to side.

"Hm." Hank hummed with concern as she struggled to keep focus. "Alright, Rogue, I'm going to ask you a few questions. I want you to answer them as best as you can."

Logan cocked an eyebrow, wondering how exactly this was supposed to help, but decided that he should let the doctor do his job and keep his trap shut.

"What year is it?" Hank asked.

"Uh…" Rogue put her hand to her forehead. "The twenty-fourth? Wait… That's not right."

"Alright." Hank nodded. "What is my name?"

"…H something…" She knitted her brow with frustration and confusion. She knew this. She knew that she knew this. She just couldn't get a hold of the right answer. "I had it a second ago…Harry? Henry? No- Hank! It's Hank!"

"Good." Hank scribbled something out on a clipboard beside the bed. "Do you know where you are?"

"…School?..." She guessed, having the vague impression that she was supposed to be learning something here.

"Hmm. Alright. Last one: Are you feeling nauseous at all?" He inquired.

Rogue leaned over the side of the table and heaved up the contents of her stomach into a trash can.

"Thank you very much, Rogue." Hank smiled pleasantly before turning to Logan. "I think she has a concussion. Nothing too serious, however, or she would have been unconscious. It explains the nausea, irritability, as well as the inability to answer simple questions coherently."

Logan grunted once in acknowledgement while Rogue growled out a barely intelligible "Ah'll show yah _irritability!_"

"I'd like to administer an x-ray as soon as that nasty scrape on the back of her head stops bleeding." Hank continued distractedly as he rooted through drawers, turning with a pad of gauze that he simply slid under Rogue's head. He would wrap the wound more effectively after the x-ray if need be. "Until then we must remain vigilant and ensure that she doesn't fall asleep, or it may be the last time she does so." He instructed, his voice the epitome of serious as he handed Rogue a cup of water to rinse out her mouth with.

Logan contemplated this seriously for a moment, wondering for a moment if he should touch the girl to relieve her of her pain.

"Don't you dare." Hank shot him a dark look, obviously guessing his thoughts. "I'm here to ensure mental health as well."

"Mah head hurts." Rogue moaned, teeth sinking in to the flesh of her lower lip. Tears glossed over her eyes.

"Is there anything you can give her?" Logan asked as he stepped forward to her side, concern spiking.

"I would if I could," Hank sighed. "However we don't have any of her medical records. I wouldn't be able to accurately predict what effect more intense medication would have on her system; whether she would have an allergic reaction or not. And, seeing as how she is in no condition to tell me what she could react to herself, I'm left with no other option."

Logan glared as Rogue whimpered.

"I'll –uh…" Hank swallowed thickly at The Wolverine's continuing glower. "I'll see if I can't find any Advil."

"Glad to hear it." Logan grunted as Hank exited the room in search of medication.

"Ow…" Rogue whimpered again, curling up on the table.

"You alright, kid?" Logan pulled up a chair.

"Sleepy." She offered, eyes drooping.

"Well, don't you go falling asleep on me." He lightly smacked her on the thigh in a familiar, almost brotherly, fashion before pulling up a chair next to her side.

"But, I'm so tired." She whined. "And my head hurts."

"I know," He said in a soothing tone. "But you have to trust me here, kid. Stay awake."

Rogue paused for a moment, scrutinizing the man in front of her. "Why do you call me kid?"

"Huh?' Logan said, surprised by the suddenness of the question.

"Kid." She repeated. "You don't call anyone else kid. Just me. Why?"

Logan shrugged. "Guess you're closer to me than all the other runts in this place."

"Closer?" A little bubble of hope swelled in her chest.

"Sure." Logan shot a grin at her and plucked up her bare hand in his gloved one, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Like family."

Her bubble burst. She felt like crawling in to a hole and burying herself there. She was _family _to him.

"Logan?" Someone called as the electric hiss of the automatic doors of the med bay swishing open filled the air. Logan dropped her hand in a hot second as Ororo marched into the room, and even though Rogue knew it was because he didn't want anyone to think he was going soft, it still hurt a little.

"'Ro." He grunted in response.

"We need to talk." She said seriously.

"I try to fit you in my busy schedule." He rolled his eyes as he turned back to Rogue.

Ororo rolled her shoulders and attempted to curb the intensity of the glare she was shooting at the man. "Now."

"Can't." Logan tossed over his shoulder. "Someone's gotta stay and make sure Rogue here doesn't accidentally fall asleep."

"This is about Rogue's accident, actually." Ororo clarified. "We need to talk about the safety of _my _students in the Danger Room."

"Well," Logan leaned back in the chair. "Like I said, somebody's gotta be here with Rogue."

"If I may be so bold as t' volunteer." Someone drawled coolly, practically a purr. Everyone turned sharply to find the tall figure of a certain Cajun lounging in the chair in front of Hank's desk.

"When the hell did he get in here?" Logan nearly barked out of shock, causing Rogue to wince.

"He was right behind me…" Ororo looked over her shoulder from where she stood in the doorway. When on earth did he have time to slip past her? "Anyway," She shook her head distractedly. "That's a great idea, Gambit. You stay here with Rogue, and _Logan," _She shot another glare at the man. "And I will go outside to have a nice, quiet, little chat." The tone of her voice indicated otherwise.

"Logan." Rogue whimpered. "Don' leave." She pleaded.

Logan was caught between crumbling to the tone of Rogue's voice and spontaneously erupting into flames from the intensity of Ororo's glare.

"I won't be too far off." He promised her, cupping his hand over the top of her head in an almost affectionate fashion as he stood. "You just shout if you need me."

"But," She struggled to find a way to stop him.

"And you shout if the Cajun here gives you any trouble." Logan added as an afterthought, shooting a glare at the man with his feet propped up on Hank's desk that Rogue was positive she had never seen before in her life.

"But," She tried one more time.

"And you," Logan growled at the man who seemed to have an eternal smirk plastered on his face. "I'm not gonna pussy-foot around here: I don't know you and I don't think I like you. If I hear the smallest sound of complaint from her, you're gonna have three new holes to breathe out of." Logan unsheathed his claws with a sharp _snikt, _holding them with a thinly veiled threat in the Cajun's direction. "Are we clear?" He demanded.

"Crystal, _Monsieur _Claws." The man grinned devilishly, not even the slightest hint that he was intimidated by Logan's threat showing across his partially hidden features.

"Logan." Ororo said shortly as she noticed it looked like Logan was about to start something with the younger man.

Logan gave one snort of distrust before stalking out the door with Ororo, not even sparing Rogue a backwards glance.

The door closed.

Rogue found herself sealed in a room with some man she didn't even know.

"Evenin', _chère." _The stranger grinned at her, leaving Hank's chair in favor of the one by Rogue's side, which he flipped around so as to sit in backwards. He observed her for a moment. She was hurt and angry. The fire was still burning clear through her eyes, not yet having had time to glaze back over.

She gave a single grunt of acknowledgement as she stared up at the ceiling, hoping it sounded enough like a rebuttal that he wouldn't pursue any discussion.

"Saw that spill y' took in the Danger Room earlier." He continued conversationally, her gruff dismissal of his first attempt to start up a chat having no apparent effect on him.

"You and everyone else in this hellhole, swamp rat." She growled at him, finally sparing him a glaring look of consideration. Physically, he was attractive, but something about him made her bristle. It was something about the ease in the curve of his lips. The leisure with which he sat. He looked _cocky. _He reeked of arrogance and overconfidence. No shame. She didn't like how he hid his eyes.

"Swamp rat?" He repeated, grinning.

"Yeah." She snapped. "You gave me a nick name; I figured I'd return the favor."

He smirked at her for another moment more before offering her his hand.

"Remy. Remy LeBeau." He introduced.

She looked at the mostly bare hand and then to the man that owned it. She wondered for a half a second why he wore gloves. What was _he _hiding behind the cloth? And then down to her own bare hands, that should have been hidden as well.

"Are you _stupid?" _She demanded.

Remy blinked.

"You saw what happened down there!" She continued, unfazed by his stunned expression. "You said so yourself!"

"We talkin' about the part where y' touched the crazy blond _femme?" _Remy attempted to keep up with the sharp turn the conversation had taken.

"Yes!" Rogue hissed. "One touch from me and you'd be down for the count."

Though she couldn't see them, realization dawned in his eyes.

"Y' can't control it…" He guessed.

"No skin-to-skin contact." She nodded. "Or I'll suck out your soul."

He propped his chin on his arms, his brow furrowed in thought. Not that she could see it underneath his mop of hair and sunglasses. He seemed to contemplate this for a moment before speaking again, changing the subject.

"I never got your name, _chère._" Remy spoke in a lilting fashion, despite the fact that he knew her name before he had even heard her voice. He wanted to hear her say it. He wanted a proper introduction.

"It's Anna." Rogue answered before she thought the answer through thoroughly. Just like earlier when Hank had asked her all of those simple questions she had spoken what she had thought to be the answer before realizing she was wrong. "No!" She shouted, slamming the heel of her hand into her forehead, causing Remy to start. "That's wrong. I don't go by Anna anymore… My name's…Anna-Marie…? No. Rogue. That's it. Rogue."

"Anna." Remy tasted the word on his tongue, finding it to be a great deal more feminine and appealing to the ear than 'Rogue'.

"No." Rogue spat. "It's Rogue. Just Rogue."

"Well, 'Just Rogue'," Remy smirked at her. "It's a pleasure t' meet y'."

"Well, 'Remy. Remy LeBeau'." She shot right back. "I won' return the compliment."

Remy grinned at her sass as he deftly pulled out a deck of cards from the pocket of his trench coat. He bridged the deck in one hand and started to shuffle before he even realized the cards were in his hands.

"That's obnoxious." Rogue gritted out at the clatter of cards.

"Sorry, _chère._" Remy cut off shuffling. "Started shuffling cards instead of smoking. Now, whenever I'm hankerin' for a cigarette, I get out the deck." He explained apologetically.

"Well, stop it!" She snapped. She vaguely remembered Hank describing her as 'irritable'.

"Sorry, sorry." He repeated, holding up his hands in surrender. Cocky smile still in place.

She contemplated throwing something at his head.

"Say, _chère?_" Remy drawled coolly as he sorted through his deck. "If y' can't touch, how do you and your boyfriend—" A box of band aids smacked him in the head, interrupting his sentence.

Though the box was too light to cause any real damage at all, it had been hurled with enough force to displace his sunglasses.

His shades clattered to the floor.

Remy blinked harshly as the severe lighting of the med bay scorched his sensitive eyes, stumbling back out of his chair. A string of French expletives flooded from his mouth as he crashed to the floor and scuttled backwards, covering his eyes with his arm as he scrambled back into the shadows.

"Remy?" Rogue called tentatively, afraid she'd done some actual damage. Then again, it had been a sensitive question that he had no right to ask.

When there was no response Rogue hazarded her health and rolled off of the table onto shaky legs.

"Remy?" She called again.

"Over here, _chère." _He grunted from the nook underneath Hank's desk.

"Are you alright?" She asked, trying to see if she could get a good enough look at him to determine for herself.

"Yes and no." He gritted out, pressing himself farther into the scant shadows.

"Do you need any help?" She asked, but before he could tell her not to she had taken a step forward.

Her knees buckled underneath of her almost immediately, sending her falling forward.

"_Merde!" _Remy hissed as he scrambled out of his hiding spot and over to Rogue's side.

"Ah'm fine." She mumbled, staring down at the pool of spilled cards that lay beneath of her palms.

"Are y' sure?" Remy demanded harshly.

"Yes!" She hissed before looking up. "I'm su-…" A gasp ripped itself from her lips.

Remy shrunk back with shame, bowing his head forward so that his hair would fall in front of his eyes, however, not even his thick hair could hide the burning of his dark eyes. Gone was the cockiness. The arrogance and overconfidence. Apprehension, humility, and self-consciousness had taken their place.

She'd found his weak point. The home of all of the traits she had noted he lacked upon first introduction.

"Ah'm sorry." She breathed. She wasn't apologizing for hitting him.

"Would y' hand me m' shades?" Remy mumbled into his chest.

Rogue turned to realize his sunglasses were sitting on the ground at her back. She picked them up delicately, knowing they meant the world to him. She turned back around to find him waiting with his hand outstretched, his head still bowed to his chest.

"No." She heard someone say. It took her a few seconds of stunned silence to realize it had been her. The word had been spoken so softly she hadn't been sure for a second.

He rolled his shoulders apprehensively, still not looking up at her directly.

Tentatively, she reached forward, her bare fingers trembling in the air until they reached his dark curtain of hair, careful not to actually touch his skin. She ran her fingers forward, dragging his hair with them.

They both knew he could have stopped her.

He dissected her harshly with his deep red on black eyes that held such a depth of burning emotion she had to bite her lip to swallow a gasp. Once upon a time she had been a little girl sitting in a pew in a stiff white dress, green eyes wide with fear and wonderment as she listened to a Southern Baptist preacher passionately described inferno. Brimstone and hellfire. Suffering and Anger that couldn't be comprehended. That was what Remy LeBeau's eyes were. She looked at him, really _looked _at him for the first time. She had judged him too quickly the first time around, this time she intended to make no such mistake. He looked at her with his intense eyes and she found herself being drawn to him. Entranced.

"Scary, huh?" He bit off darkly after a few moments of silence, breaking the spell as he finally pulled back out of her reach. He snatched back his sunglasses from her other hand.

"What?" She breathed.

"Part of the package, _chère._" He snorted in a tone that sounded dangerously close to 'bitterness'. "Ugly kid with ugly eyes." He replaced the dark lenses on his face resolutely.

"You…" the 'irritability' came back to bite her in the ass. "_Dumbass!" _She hissed.

Remy blinked again stupidly.

She swiped at him faster than he could react in his dumbfounded state and stole his sunglasses back. "Your eyes are gorgeous." She leaned forward so that she could get another look. Confusion wrinkled his brow as he tried to wrap his head around her reaction.

"Y' hit y'r head pretty hard there, _chère." _He dismissed.

"I guarantee yah that they're still gonna be pretty when I'm fine and well." She grinned at him. "And I hate tah break it tah yah, but you aren't exactly an 'ugly kid' either."

He stared at her for another moment before a grin split his face.

"Y' think I'm pretty?' He laughed at her.

Rogue rolled her eyes, but her smile didn't leave her lips. "Don't go gettin' a swelled head over it." She snorted.

Remy grinned at her, relief evident in his dark eyes.

"Wipe that damn smile off your face and help me up." Rogue rolled her eyes again.

"Sure thing, _chère." _He chuckled and, instead of just taking her elbow and steadying her like Bobby or Logan would have; he simply scooped her up and stood on his own.

"Ah!" Rogue squeaked in surprise, wrapping her arms around his neck out of reflex as she was lifted into the air. Remy laughed as he eased her back on to the table.

"Scared of heights?" He teased.

"Nope. Only of Cajuns." She shot back in good humor.

"Well, then I guess this is fate, seeing as how I'm the only Cajun in a hundred mile radius." Remy chuckled at her.

"I don't believe in fate." She smiled smugly.

"Really?" His eyebrows shot up on his forehead.

"Yup." Rogue nodded. "Don't believe in one yuppie word."

"Not even love at first sight?" He inquired.

"Especially not love at first sight." She snorted, thinking back to the first time she had seen Logan. "I tried it once. It doesn't work."

"Hm." Remy propped his chin back up on his arms. "_Eh bien, _maybe y' just haven't tried it with the right person yet."

"I doubt it." She shrugged it off.

He brooded on this for a moment.

"How 'bout flirtation at first sight? That worth believing in?"

She looked over at him and grinned.

"Oh, absolutely."

They made a silent pact right then and there that he would never bring up her skin if she never brought up his eyes.

_

* * *

It wasn't that she had followed him down the halls using the security cameras to track his movements; she had just… followed him down the halls using the security cameras to track his movements... _

_But, she was simply… researching. She had to get to know him before she approached. How was she supposed to know what to say if she didn't know what he was going to respond to? They had already been introduced, in a way, but she wanted to make sure that she made a good first impression. _

_She followed him as he chatted idly with__ Ororo__ Munroe in the hallways. Munroe was fuming about the mishap in the Danger Room and Gambit was doing his best to convince her that she should discuss things with the instructor, Wolverine. _

_As they stepped into the med bay, she switched to the security camera there. _

_She saw him slip in like a ghost without anyone noticing and admired his coordination. She spent the next few minutes simply appreciating him as he moved from the doctor's desk to sit next to the wounded girl on the examination table. She found it very compassionate of him to volunteer to look after the girl, even if she did think it was a little foolish. _

_Why tend to the girl? Why send Munroe away? What was he receiving out of this interaction? _

_Frustrated, she took a snap shot of the girl on the table and ran it through the student base. Barely a half a second later the name 'Rogue' flashed on another screen along with another picture of the girl on the bed._

_She skimmed over the facts on this particular girl, trying to figure out why Gambit wanted to be isolated with her. Nothing she read explained his behavior. _

_She continued to observe him as they interacted. The girl didn't seem to appreciate his attentions. He seemed to be applying his attentions too liberally, dancing around 'the line'. Eventually, he miss stepped and crossed it. _

_The girl hurled a small box of bandages at his head, sending his sunglasses crashing to the ground._

_She paused the feed. _

_His eyes. How… interesting. They certainly were a marvel. Obviously, the unnatural combination of color would be less than appealing to the average individual. Red and black were a blend that the human nature instinctually shied away from. It was understandable that he would choose to shield these eyes from the general public. _

_Still, she would have liked a closer look at them. She wanted to see them in person. Would he permit her to inspect them if she introduced herself? Would it be too forward to ask him about his eyes up front? Would it be too blunt of an introduction? _

_However, she wouldn't approach him just yet. It was all in good time. _

_The feed ground forward again. _

_With each second that passed she found herself becoming more and more vexed. _

_He tucked himself away in the corner and the girl put herself at risk to follow him._

_The girl fell and Gambit put himself at risk to come to her aide. _

_She ran her fingers through his hair. She gazed into his eyes. She told him that he was gorgeous. He picked her up in a way that indicated romantic association. She allowed him to hold her, throwing her own arms around his neck._

_They laughed. _

_Often. _

_A new emotion rose inside of her as she observed the two of them. It stirred inside of her as she watched this new player in her game encroach on her territory. _

_It was malice._

_Hatred. _

_Loathing. _

_Finally, unable to stand any more, she paused the feed again. _

_This 'Rogue' girl was frozen on screen, smile curving across her lips softly as she gazed at Gambit._

_She hated that girl. With her nonexistent heart and soul, she _hated _her. _

_A line that she had heard once resurfaced in her memory as she dissected the attractive young woman on the screen viciously. _

'_All's fair in love and war.' _

_Well, this was love. And this Rogue had just turned it into _war.

* * *

_(Jamie) Daaw. _


	3. how we keep starting fires?

_So, hey, how's it going? Me? I'm pretty good. Wrist is bitchin' out so much anymore these days, hopefully I can stop wearing this stupid wrist brace soon. (Rob wrote 'CRIPPLE' on the side in big, red letters. It makes me feel special.) I guess what I actually came here to say was 'Here's your chapter! I hope you like it!' , but I seem to be going through fanfiction withdrawl. _

_It's an issue. _

* * *

3. -_h__ow we keep starting fires?_

"Ow, ow, ow." Rogue moaned as Hank wrapped her head. "Stop bein' so rough!" She snapped. Her hair was wet from when Hank had forced her to wash the blood out and her top had been peeled away from her skin, the blood plastering the leather to her back, replaced by a grey sweatshirt with the 'X' emblem of the school over the heart. Her gloves had eventually been collected from the Danger Room and returned to her, snuggling comfortably back into their rightful place.

"I assure you, I'm being nothing if not gentle." Hank snorted as he tucked the cling into itself right above her ear, securing the bandage in place. "Now, I'm not going to force you to stay here for the night, even though I probably should. Logan has agreed to wake you up every six hours and you are going to be on constant watch for the next five days. If you are feeling any leftover nausea, dizziness, or memory loss, you are to come back down here immediately. Understood?"

"Aye-aye, captain." Rogue gave him a mock salute.

"And no Danger Room sessions for at least a week." Hank added as he cleaned up. "Longer if I decide you're not in good enough health."

"Dang." Rogue pretended to snap her fingers in disappointment. "Because I love Danger Room sessions so much." She said sarcastically.

"Don't think that everyone didn't notice that you took down an entire Sentinel by yourself, Rogue." Hank said wisely. "That won't go forgotten."

"Yeah, well." Rogue sighed with discomfort as she rose to her feet. "Tell 'em not to get too excited about me taking down another one. It was a one time deal."

"For your sake, I certainly hope so." Hank looked over her x-rays before noticing she was having a hard time. "Do you need some help to get back to your room?" He inquired with concern. "I would be more than willing-."

"No thank you, Hank. I'll manage." Rogue assured him before casting a look into the corner.

Uncomfortably situated in the chair there sat the sleeping form of Remy LeBeau. Smiling softly Rogue walked over to him and ran her hand across his shoulder gently. "Remy…" She crooned softly, attempting to not be an unpleasant awakening. "Time to wake up…" She couldn't help the smile in her voice as he attempted to bat her fingers away in his sleep, shifting.

"Emil did it…" He mumbled in his sleep.

Rogue laughed softly as shook him a little harder. "Remy…" She tried again.

"What?" He groaned, finally beginning to rouse.

"It's two in the mornin', hun." She chuckled. "Time to go to bed."

"I have a bed?" Remy finally opened his unfocused eyes.

"And a room and everything." She grinned.

"Haven't had one of those in a while." Remy stretched, working out all of the kinks he'd received from being in such a contorted position for so long.

"A room?" Rogue asked.

"A bed." Remy grunted uncomfortably as he stood and replaced his glasses. When he noticed her puzzled look he elaborated. "Didn't have any furniture in my last four apartments in case I ever had to pick up and leave. Always kept m' bags packed. I slept on the floor for the last year. A bed's gonna need some gettin' used to."

"I know what you mean," Rogue mused as they fell into step beside each other en route to the exit. "First time I got here I hadn't seen a bed in seven months. Mostly slept in passenger seats in trucks that I'd hitchhiked in. Couldn't get comfortable here for the longest time."

"Sounds rough." Remy yawned as he escorted her into the elevator to the ground level.

"Do you already know where your room is?" Rogue inquired as the elevator doors closed with a finalizing _swish_.

"I know the room number…" Remy looked down at his palm, where he had scribbled the number earlier. "But I don't know where it is." He paused a moment before shooting her a mischievous look. "If y' wanted to escort me to my new room, I wouldn't complain, _chère." _He grinned. "You could even tuck me in before y' go. Maybe it'll help me get t' sleep."

Rogue rolled her eyes significantly at him. "Just because you stayed up half the night with me in the hospital, don't expect any special treatment." She prodded him in the chest importantly. "I'll show yah to your room, and I'll say 'Good night' if yah get lucky, but I ain't steppin' foot in any place where there would be both you and a bed." She smirked.

"Hey now, _chère." _He chuckled. "You're making it sound like I had something unsavory planned, and, frankly, I'm offended at the very implication."

The elevator doors hissed open, revealing the dark hallway in front of them.

"I'm sure you are, swamp rat." She shot back, leading the way as Remy waved a gentlemanly hand, ushering her forward before him.

"Devastated, in fact." He purred.

"What ever are we going to do about that?" She said coyly over her shoulder.

"I do have a few suggestions." He guaranteed her, taking her waist and elbow as they were confronted with the stairs, knowing full well she was in no condition to scale them at any reasonable rate by herself.

"I'm riveted to hear." She tried to resist his help for a few moments before she got a little dizzy. She leaned into him for the support.

"Most of them involve what could be described as 'scandalous' apparel and jello." He rumbled throatily in her ear and she couldn't help but laugh.

"You're incorrigible." She accused.

"I've been called worse." He laughed along with her.

"I'm sure you have." She stepped out of his hold as they reached the second floor landing. "Was it 'obnoxious'? Or 'annoying'? How about-."

"I prefer to think of myself as 'irresistible'." Remy interrupted, letting Rogue take the lead towards the boys' corridor. "And 'devilishly charming'."

"Well, somebody lied to you, boy." She snorted.

"What?" Remy slung his hands into his pockets and pretended to be offended. "You don't think I'm irresistible?" He gasped theatrically.

"Hmm." Rogue considered as she leaned against a door frame, the number tacked to the surface of the door mirrored the number scrawled across Remy's palm. For some reason, she felt like she had been to this exact room before.

"Well?" He took the other side of the door frame, arms crossed over his chest.

"Maybe…" Rogue smirked. "Just a teensy, weensy, little bit."

"Only a 'teensy, weensy, little bit'?" He grinned wolfishly and leaned forward, his eyes burning from underneath his sunglasses.

"Hmm…" She hummed again, leaning forward to match him. "Maybe not 'irresistible', but you have definitely got the 'devilishly charming' part down."

"Practice." He assured.

"Oh, obviously." She shot back, not even wondering why she continued to loiter outside of his bedroom with him instead of going back to her own room.

"Would you two get a room?" Someone moaned from behind the door they were leaning in front of. "Some of us are trying to sleep!"

Remy jumped at the voice. "Who the hell is that?'

"Your roommate." Rogue laughed. "Didn't you know that you get one of those here?"

He looked at her aghast and she laughed louder.

"I swear…" 'Roommate' growled from behind the door, fed up with the blatant flirting that was interrupting his sleep. He rolled out of bed as the chime of laughter continued, determined to speak his mind as he threw the door open. "If you two don't-." He started to hiss before his voice stopped dead in his throat.

"Bobby!" Rogue jumped.

Bobby looked from his girlfriend to the man she had been _flirting with in front of his bedroom door _and back again before his eyes finally steadied on the man. He was tall. Taller than Bobby, even though he was still leaning against the doorframe, seemingly unfazed by the interruption. His features were strong and angular. His muscles were lean and wiry. And he was wearing a pair of sunglasses. In doors. At two in the morning. He was wearing sunglasses in doors at two o' clock in the morning.

_...Why?..._

"_Bonjour." _The stranger drawled when he noticed Bobby gaping.

_Oh god… _Bobby paled. _He's tall, mysterious, and French. Every girl in the mansion will be mooning after him by lunchtime tomorrow! Even my _girlfriend!

"I was just showing Remy here his room." Rogue took a reserved step backwards with her hands clasped in front of her, sensing Bobby's growing discomfort. She flashed him a smile.

A dull smile.

Remy bristled as he watched her slipping backwards into her camouflage. She was putting on her mask again. For the pig that she knew was cheating on her with the panicky brunette, nonetheless.

Bobby stared at her and Remy could see that she was afraid of his rejection.

"She was." Remy stepped up for her despite himself. "And since ol' Gambit here's a bit of a flirt, she was just tryin' t' oblige me." Even he noticed how dark his voice was.

"Right…" Frankly, Bobby was willing to accept anything other than 'We were about to get it on, but then you showed up'.

"Remy, this is Bobby." Rogue introduced.

"Her boyfriend." Bobby cut in sharply, leveling a look at the newcomer in his home.

"Yeah." Rogue admitted weakly. "Bobby, this is-."

"Gambit." Remy interrupted darkly.

"No real name?" Bobby joked with a somewhat sharp edge.

"Jus' Gambit to you."

"You're my new roommate, huh?" Bobby glared at the new kid.

"It would seem so." Remy bit off.

"Right." Bobby growled. "Well, you go ahead and get settled in while I take my _girlfriend _back to her room."

"Thanks, but I think 'm gonna step out for a smoke instead." Remy peeled away from the doorframe slickly, his eyes never leaving the quiet Rogue.

"I thought you said you quit." Rogue looked up at him.

"I did say that, didn't I?" Remy considered. "I guess we all tell little white lies sometimes, eh Boyfriend?" He shot a glare at the boy in the doorway. "Sometimes you just gotta lie t' somebody about something that y' did. Just a little lie. Nothing too big. Nothing that would ever _hurt _anyone, right _Bobby?_" He ground out, his tone covertly acidic. His body language held an air of repugnance_. _

The color flushed from Bobby's face.

_He knows… _He swallowed thickly. _He knows about Kitty. _It was in that moment that he realized how lightly he was going to have to step around this new guy. Bobby didn't know what Gambit had seen or heard about him and Kitty, but if he ever decided to tell Rogue anything, it would be the end. Of his relationship, his reputation, everything.

Before anyone gathered up the gall to say anything else, Remy swept away.

Rogue stared after him, equal parts confusion, admiration, and irritation stumbling around inside of her. She went to bed frustrated, not knowing why.

Remy opted to crash on the couch in the rec room, frustrated. He knew exactly why.

_

* * *

_

She watched him sleep. She was glad he had chosen to sleep on the couch in the recreation room instead of sleeping in his own room for the night. There were no security cameras in the bedrooms.

_She had followed him from the med bay all the way up to his room. Unfortunately, that Rogue had been with him the entire time, picking up a flirtatious banter with him. She had been livid at first as she had observed the two of them, but then, something wonderful had happened._

_Bobby Drake had happened. _

_Drake had interrupted as they loitered in front of his bedroom and the change in body language on all accounts had been obvious. _

_It all started to make a little more sense._

_Rogue + Drake= Established romantic relationship._

_Gambit + Rogue= Flirtation._

_Gambit + Drake =/= Friends. _

_Gambit + Rogue+ Drake = Tension. _

_So, reasonably: Gambit + Rogue =/= Flirtation when Rogue + Drake= Established romantic relationship._

_All of this was good news to her as it suddenly appeared that there was hope on the horizon for her after all. All that she had to do was ensure that Drake and Rogue remained in their established relationship._

_And that couldn't be too hard… could it? _

* * *

_The next chapter is where things start to _actually _get fun. :D_


	4. It's my desire!

_Xavier taught classes in the movie! So, nyaaaah!_

* * *

_4. It's my desire!_

"Aunt Carrie!" She screamed, stumbling through the threshold of the small house, blue dress swinging around her in a swirl, Logan trotting silently behind her. "Aunt Carrie!" The storm just outside brewed dark colors, winds beginning to swirl dramatically, twisting down to the ground. "Aunt Carrie!" She screamed again, sprinting into her bedroom.

The room was completely empty.

"Oh no." She put her hands to her face. Her stomach hallowed out in panic as her head whipped around, looking over the room a second and third time. "Auntie Carrie!" She made to sprint for the window.

The floor jerked underneath her and she fumbled in her step, flying forward. Her forehead connected with the window sill, sending her collapsing to the floor.

"Ow." She moaned as she slowly collected herself. Her fingers clamped down around the sill and she dragged herself into an upright position. She gingerly lifted her other hand to her forehead, her gloves came back red. "Sonovagun." She growled, hoisting herself up so her eyes were level with the clear glass of the window.

A gasp ripped from her throat.

A cow flew past the window, struggling in the torrents of wind ripping at it.

"What in the—" She stammered, struggling to pry open the window. She stuck her head out the small gap, the two braids on either side of her head tugging in the wind, just in time to see and old man in a billowing cape go tumbling by in the wind currents.

"Erik?" Her brow wrinkled.

A young man went flying past.

"John?"

Another young man.

"Bobby?" She was starting to get upset. "Ah don' understand." She shook her head, pulling back in. "Logan?" She turned to look at the hairy man.

Before he could respond, an earth shattering tremor rocked the house, sending her flying back into the sill.

"Ow." She grunted again, holding her head. Logan was at her elbow, gently helping her stand. "Did we stop moving?" She asked in mumble.

He helped her slowly towards the front door.

"Logan…" She whispered as the door swung open. "I don't think we're in Canada anymore…"

Around her stood a world of blinding colors and weird people. The man closest to her was wearing a pair of intensly red sunglasses, the woman next to him had stark white hair, the man next to her had blue skin and a tail.

"Uh…hi." The man with the sunglasses gave them a little wave. "Welcome to X." Logan growled deeply in his throat at him.

"This place is amazing." She looked around at all the amazing people in this land of 'X'.

"You killed him!"

She whipped around to find a blue woman with red hair crouched next to the fallen house.

"What?"She tread lightly next to the woman.

"You killed him." The blue woman repeated, smiling broadly.

She looked at what the blue woman was pointing at.

"Cody!" She screamed, on her knees next to the body in a heartbeat. "Ohmygod, Cody! What did I do!" She screamed, pulling the body of the young boy out from underneath the house, a pair of obnoxiously red all-stars on his feet.

"Don't feel bad." The dark skinned woman with white hair smiled warmly at her. "It's a gift."

"What?" She shrilled. "How can you call this a gift?" She demanded, furious.

"We're all gifted." The woman tried to assure her gently.

"Get away from me!" She scrambled away. "Get the _hell _away from me!" She stumbled backwards, falling. "Oh, no…" she whispered as she saw her feet. Cody's red all-stars. "No, no, no, no, _no!" _she tried to pry of the shoes, but the laces refused to budge. "Get 'em off!" She started to sob.

But, they wouldn't budge.

She was stuck with them.

"No." She gasped through the sobs.

"_Chere." _A warm hand fell on her shoulder.

"No!" She smacked away the hand. "You don't understand! None of you understand! Get away from me! Don't _ever _touch me!"

"Maybe you could go see The Professor." Sunglasses suggested, keeping his distance.

"The Professor?" Her head snapped up.

"The Professor of X."

* * *

"Wake up!" There was a loud knocking at her door, bursting her out of her fitful sleep and odd dreams.

Rogue started awake, eyes flying open.

"That was such a weird dream." She muttered to herself.

"Kid!" The banging persisted.

"What?" Rogue hissed, holding on to the side of her head as the inside of her ears throbbed, reminding her that she used to up every morning to the smell of frying bacon, the sounds of birds singing just outside her window, the sunshine on her bare skin. Now, all she had to look forward to in the morning was fighting to be first to the bathroom and rooting through cabinets for something edible for breakfast. Alone.

"Open the door!" The same voice that had jolted her out of her dreams in the first place boomed again.

"Stop bein' so loud!" Rogue stumbled out of bed, complying with the voice in the hopes that if she followed instructions it would quiet down even the slightest amount.

"Are you awake?" Logan demanded as she threw open the door.

"No!" She snapped. "Obviously I'm sleepwalking, because there is no way on God's green earth that I would wake up this early willingly!"

He blinked at her once, stunned at her sudden ferocity, before grinning.

"I'm sorry." Rogue sighed after a few seconds, smoothing her hand across her brow. "I didn't mean to snap."

"Don't be." Logan dismissed. "It's good to see a little fire in those eyes every now and again."

"I'll bust my head against the pavement more often, then." She growled out before realizing she was being unruly and rolling her shoulders. "Is there something you wanted?" She said, a great deal more pleasantly than she had been and a great deal less pleasantly than was her norm.

"I don't know if you forgot, but you still got class this morning, kid." Logan quirked an eyebrow at her.

Rogue cursed wildly and twisted around, throwing open her closet and tearing out clothes furiously.

"What in the hell has gotten into you?" Logan inquired as he leaned against the doorframe, observing her.

"Spit and vinegar." Rogue snapped over her shoulder as she grabbed up a pair of jeans and an oversized and nearly threadbare sweatshirt that she usually only wore to sleep, having no patience for anything more dressy.

"So I see." Logan smirked.

Rogue merely growled in response as she edged around him out of the doorway, clothes pressed against her chest as she scampered away to the bathroom, scowling all the way.

She was blissfully unaware of the cogs outside working to push her life out of her control.

* * *

"I heard that she took down the entire Sentinel with her _bare hands!" _

"I heard that she spazzed out and tried to strangle Tabby."

"I heard that her skull cracked against the pavement and she died!"

"Then why did I see her walking around earlier, stupid? Besides, didn't you know that the Danger Room is programmed specifically _not _to kill people? Nobody can die in the Danger Room."

Remy's eyes cracked open as he heard voices whispering conspiratorially, rousing him from his fitful sleep on the couch in the rec room. He could only assume they were talking about Rogue.

He considered getting up and demanding to know what these children were talking about, but instead laid still, belly down eyes closed on the couch like the gators in the swamp he had grown up with. Waiting. And for a while there he was a log in the water. Camouflaged. Waiting. Coolly. Patiently. He didn't know what for, exactly, considering he had no mind to eat any of the children crowded in the doorway, but he knew that he would know it when he knew it.

"I heard that she nearly beat Bobby to death and that she spent the entire night with a new kid."

"What? That's ridiculous! Everybody knows that Rogue and Bobby are only still together because Bobby's the only one that'll touch her with a ten foot pole."

Remy tensed but didn't yet interfere.

"If either of them were gonna break it off, it would be Bobby. Every man's gotta have a little touch-and-feel to his relationship, if yaknowwhatI'msayin'."

"Stop being such a pig!"

Remy waited. Waited. His shoulders rolled as his muscles tensed and coiled, ready to strike out, but he stayed. He felt the heat of anger fury to boil under his skin on Rogue's account, but he stilled. And he waited.

"Well, if all of that's true, how come I heard her flirting with some guy in the hallway last night? Huh?"

"Maybe you hallucinated it."

"Shut up. I didn't hallucinate it! I swear, she and this guy were totally gettin' it on when Bobby walked out and caught them."

"I seriously doubt they were 'totally getting it on'."

"Maybe she's finally realized that he's cheating on her with Kitty."

"Who knows, with all the drama that surrounds her all the time. Skunk-head is lucky she's hot, because no one would put up with any of her bullshit if they didn't want in her pan-."

Remy pounced, unable to keep himself waiting any longer.

Before anyone had time to realize much of anything, Remy had a teenage boy pinned to the ground underneath of him, his fist balled up in the front of his shirt, his dark eyes burning through the tinted lenses on the sunglasses that he had fallen asleep in.

"_AHHHH!_" The kid screamed and his two friends that he had been gossiping with jumped nearly a foot in the air.

"Hush up!" Remy snapped irritably. The kid's screaming immediately cut off. "_Bon." _Remy gave one curt nod.

"Who the hell are you?" The kid stuttered. "And where _the hell _did you come from?" He looked around the room wildly, trying to determine if the man had just fallen from the sky.

"I'm nobody, really." Remy assured. "And I come from a place where they teach us t' respect a lady."

The kid swallowed.

"Now, I see y' ain't had the time t' learn this lesson." Remy continued. "And I should take it outta your hide, but y' caught me in a good mood,…" He trailed off, waiting for the boy to fill in the blank.

"Gus." He choked out.

"Gus." Remy nodded. "So I'm just gonna leave you with a warnin'. If I ever, _ever, _catch you saying a cross, crude word behind somebody's back again, _especially _a lady, they will find pieces of you scattered so far across this state that I'll havta draw up a map just so they can give y' a proper burial. And that's _if _I'm feelin' generous. Y' hear me?"

The kid blinked.

"I said: Do you hear me?" Remy hauled the kid up by the front of his shirt.

"Ah- Yes! Yes! I heard you!" Gus choked out spastically.

"Good." Remy grunted, letting the boy up. "Scram."

The boy did so.

The two girls he had been chatting with stood rooted to the spot, eyes wide with what could have been either terror or awe.

"Woah…" The one with black hair and the obnoxious jacket that was nearly a seizure-inducing shade of yellow breathed.

"That was…" The Asian looking girl with purple hair and what seemed to be a jagged red tattoo over her eye gaped.

"Totally awesome!" Jubilation Lee exclaimed, throwing her arms up into the air. "Did you see how he just came out of nowhere?" She gushed. "And he threw that jackass to the ground and told him what was what!"

"All to defend a woman's honor." Betsy Braddock fanned herself. "How fantastically noble of you!"

"Ah, God! Did you hear that threat?" Jubilee bounced up and down over to Remy. "That was a top notch threat!"

"Who the devil are you?" Betsy asked in awe. "I simply must know!"

"Remy LeBeau." Remy introduced himself, bowing slightly at the waist. "Y'all can call me Gambit."

"Gambit." Jubilee tried the word out on her tongue. "Gambit. Gambit. Gambit. Gambit." She grinned. "I like it. I'm Jubilee. This is Betsy."

"Are you new here, luv?" Betsy asked hopefully. "A student?"

"_Oui." _Remy nodded, not noticing how they both swooned with his application of French. "I just rolled in here yesterday."

"One moment." Jubilee held up a finger to Gambit, clearing her throat. She and Betsy both whirled around, stepped out of the room, screamed for a second, jumping up and down, and walked coolly back in.

"Do you know which classes you have yet?" Betsy inquired composedly.

"Yeah." Remy dug around in his pocket for a moment before pulling out what looked to be a schedule, unfolding it and handing it over.

Jubilee and Betsy had a short wrestling match over the schedule, but Betsy came out on top, tearing the paper out of Jubilee's grasp.

"Ow!" Jubilee whined as she inspected her fingers for paper cuts.

Betsy frowned as she read over his class list. "I'm afraid we don't have any classes together." She tried her damndest not to pout.

"Lemme see!" Jubilee snatched the paper out of the other girl's hand. "Wow…" She inspected the classes he was taking. "You're in some tough classes. I don't have any of these…" she looked up at Remy. "You do realize that you Advanced Philosophy class starts in ten minutes?"

"_Quoi?" _He grabbed back the paper and looked it over. "_L'Enfer!" _He hissed as he discovered Jubilee was right and scrambled away, calling back a hasty farewell.

Jubilee and Betsy watched after him.

"He was wearing sunglasses inside." Jubilee sighed longingly after him.

"How ruggedly mysterious." Betsy breathed airily.

* * *

Remy was five minutes late arriving at the office of Charles Xavier, where the Advanced Philosophy class was taught. He had only stopped long enough to change his clothes and grab anything he thought he would need before dashing away to his first class at the Xavier Institute.

Apparently, however, punctuality was something observed liberally in his new domain and he unknowingly interrupted Xavier's 'Welcome to the new semester' speech.

"Uh… sorry." Remy coughed awkwardly as a dozen pairs of eyes turned to observe his tardy entrance. He only recognized three. One was Xavier's.

"Hi, Gambit." Marty and Regan grinned in chorus before realizing it and turned on each other.

"Look, psycho," Marty glared. "Just because we're related doesn't mean that I won't burn you down in a fist fight."

"Skank," Regan glowered. "I. will. _cut. you." _

"Ladies," Xavier interrupted wearily. "_Please." _He intoned.

The two sisters shot each other scathing looks before turning away.

"Class," Xavier smiled at the others pleasantly. "This is a new student, Remy LeBeau."

"Call me Gambit." Remy requested to everyone in the room.

"I hope you will all work to make him feel welcome." Xavier's intelligent eyes swept over the room and it was understood that this wasn't an optional activity. Everyone nodded agreeably and Xavier smiled. "Very good. Now, Mr. LeBeau, if you would take a seat, I can continue with our first lesson."

Remy slid into a chair near the back of the small group, determined to keep to himself.

"Now," Xavier looked across his desk at a stack of books. "Where was I?"

"Development of emotion and morals." A petite brunette in the front offered. That was when Remy realized that this brunette and the panicky one from the Danger Room were one in the same. The one that The Ass was cheating on Rogue with.

Remy sunk down in his chair, silently glaring at the girl from behind his dark glasses for some time before he actually realized he was doing it.

"And I would like for you all to read these books." Xavier continued whatever lecture he had started that Remy hadn't been paying attention to, holding up the stack of reasonably sized books that had been perched on his desk. "Would you pass these out, Kitty?" He handed the stack to the brunette.

"Sure thing, professor." Kitty smiled and passed around the books.

Remy inspected the one that landed on his desk. The picture of a vaguely humanoid figure, outlined by the deep red of sunset, (Or sunrise. It was difficult to tell.) decorated the entire front of the book, and, in thick, bold letters, the cover read '_I, Robot', _underneath, a smaller _'Isaac Asimov'. _

Remy inspected the text, flipping it over and scanning down the blurb on the back.

Sounded... unexciting.

He frowned down at the book.

Why did philosophy always have to be boring? Advanced philosophy seemed to be faring no better.

The sound of the door at his back opening broke him out of his revere and he turned to see whoever had just walked in.

"I am so sorry, Professor." Rogue panted as she rushed into the classroom. Her hair was wet and she looked flushed from some sort of activity. She was wearing a pair of well worn jeans that fit her incredibly, a dark green shirt that had a plunging neckline and clingy hem, and a pair of black gloves. "Jubilee burned my sweatshirt when she saw what I was wearing and I had to-." She looked up and met Remy's stare. "You!" She gasped and dropped all of her books.

"Me!" Remy grinned as he stood to help her gather them.

"No, no, no!" Rogue snapped, batting away his hands. "I got 'em."

"I insist, _chère_." Remy snatched up a book before she could get her fingers around it.

"Give it back!" Rogue stamped her foot like a child and lunged for the book.

"Say 'Please'." Remy held the book out of her reach.

"I'd beat you half tah death right now if I didn't think you'd like it." She glared at him. He merely smirked in return and she huffed a sigh. _"Please?" _

"There now." He handed the book back to her. "That wasn't so hard, now was it?"

"More than you know." She smirked at him.

"Are you two quite done?" Marty inquired derisively.

"Far from it." Remy smirked but took his seat.

Rogue looked around the room for a moment before realizing that the only seat left was the one next to Remy's. She took her seat quietly, not wanting to disrupt the classroom anymore than she already had.

"As I was saying," Xavier cleared his throat. "You are to inspect the relationships between humanity and robots and define and outline the driving philosophy from both viewpoints. I would like you to analyze the similarities between the two and compare and contrast these artificial intelligence's philosophies to Aristotle, Hume, Spinoza, or Descartes'. We will discuss these ideas and comparisons next class. Dismissed." He waved them away.

Rogue plucked up the book on her desk and tossed it into her bag without really looking at it before following after her classmates out the door.

"How are y' feeling, _chère_?" Remy asked as he fell into step beside her, indicating the back of her head.

"Not too bad." She smiled. "I mean, don't get me wrong. I don't feel like a ray of sunshine and rainbows, but I've had worse before."

"Hm." He seemed to brood on his, rubbing his stubbled chin. "Worse how?" He finally asked.

"It's a long story." Rogue sighed. "Magneto, Statue of Liberty, Logan had to save my life, stuff like that."

He nodded. "Where y' headed?"

"I got an hour before I have to be anywhere." She replied. "I was gonna catch up on some sleep."

"Rogue!" Someone called to her from the end of the hallway and she looked off to see Bobby waving to her.

"I gotta go." She shot an apologetic look to Remy as she walked away. "Seeya' 'round, Remy!" She called before jogging up to Bobby. He kissed her hair softly before they both disappeared into another hallway.

Remy watched after them darkly.

"She's settling for him." He turned sharply to see the brunette, Kitty, standing quietly behind him.

"What?" Remy's brow creased.

"I thought you'd want to know that she doesn't really like him." Kitty stepped forward timidly. "She stays with him because she's afraid that he's the only one that's ever going to really want to get close to her. She likes Logan well enough, but he won't ever see her as more than a kid. And that scares her."

Remy opened his mouth to ask why she was telling _him _this, of all people, but all that came out was "How do you know?"

"Because," Kitty smiled sadly. "I know that's the reason she didn't get mad at me when I told her that her boyfriend was cheating on her."

There was a pause in conversation where Remy was allowed to consider this before Kitty stuck out her hand in introduction.

"Kitty Pyrde." She said, wondering if he was going to reject the hand.

"Remy LeBeau." He accepted the hand after a moment. "Gambit."

"Well, Gambit," Kitty grinned with relief. "If you need any help with anything, please, feel free to ask me."

"I will, _petite chatte,_" He assured her with soft, maybe even slightly lukewarm, smile.

_

* * *

A. Logan is totally Toto in that Wizard of Oz dream sequence. _

_B. Nobody likes Gus._

_C. I love philosophy. _

_Also! If you think I just brought on a random Wizard of Oz dream sequence for the hell of it, you have another thing coming!_

_Just so you know: I'm a genius. And modest. And gorgeous, but I digress. _


	5. Put a little mustard on that mustard!

_At first I was all like 'Yay! Wednesday! Chapter time!' Then I decided to read it over and I was all like 'This is dumb. What am I doing?' Then I read ahead to the next chapter and I was all like 'JAMIE HOOK, YOU DEVIOUS VIXEN, YOU! BAHAHA!' _

_...And that's how it happened._

_

* * *

5_. _Put a little mustard on that mustard! _

By that afternoon Gambit was the talk of The Institute. Rogue couldn't turn in any direction without hearing stories about how Storm had threatened to throw him out of her class if he called her 'Stormy' one more time, how he and Scott had butted heads over the motorcycle that he had tinkered with, and there was even a rumor floating around that he had threatened Gus on pain of death to protect some girl's virtue. Not to mention the countless tales of girls he had charmed into stammering messes and boys he made sworn enemies of.

And it was barely dinnertime.

"I don't like him." Bobby stated out of the blue as they walked to the dining room together. There was no doubt who he was talking about.

"The boy's a flirt by nature." Rogue indicated all of the tittering gaggles of girls crowding the halls to add weight to her argument. And she did not feel a pang of despair at the fact that she wasn't the only girl to earn his attention. Nope. Not her. Because she had a _boyfriend. _A wonderful, amazing, loving, (cheating), boyfriend. "You can't hold that against him." And by 'you' she did not mean 'I'. Nope. Not her.

"It's not that." Bobby shrugged. "Well, no, some of it's that, but there's _something _about him. I don't trust him."

"You don't know him." Rogue sighed.

"I'll never get to know him at this rate." Bobby snorted with anger. "Did you know that I have not seen him in our room once yet? He doesn't have any posters or CD's or books, I don't even think he's slept on the bed last night. All he brought was a bunch of cards." He scowled. "What kind of guy doesn't have any stuff? One who's used to running, that's who."

Rogue looked at the ground. "I didn't have anything but a pair of gloves when I first showed up."

It was then that Bobby realized his mistake. Not everyone at The Institute was as lucky as he was. Some of them were runners. Some of them had been forced to fight to survive. Some of them had been pushed to their lowest, and then had been ground farther down. Rogue had been one of them.

"I'm sorry, babe." He twined his arm around her waist and pulled her forward to kiss her hair. "I didn't mean that." At her continuing silence, he added, "I'll try to give him a chance."

Rogue nodded deftly as they strolled into the dining room together, however, once there, her nose decided to do the talking.

"Oh, God," Bobby gagged on the fragrance in the air. "What is _that smell?"_

"It smells fantastic." Rogue sniffed the air headily. "Smells like…" She stumbled forward, following the scent. "Food." She tracked the smell into the hall. "_Good _food." She threw open the door to the kitchen. "Good _southern _food." She looked around wildly to find none other than Remy LeBeau whistling as he fried up some chicken, potatoes boiling on the stove next to him, no doubt destined to be mashed, green beans simmering happily on the back corner, collard greens steaming in a colander in the sink, and on the final burner of the stove sat a pot that undeniably smelled of jambalaya.

Rogue's mouth watered just looking at it.

"What are you doing?" Bobby wrinkled his nose as he walked in, having followed her. The appreciation of the smell of cooked collards was an acquired sort of thing. "Cooking a feast for yourself?"

"Thought I'd share." Remy grinned. "Seems t' me that no one 'round here has had a decent meal in quite a while."

"So…" Bobby shifted, somewhat uncomfortably. "You're making all of us dinner?"

"Supper." Remy and Rogue corrected in unison. There was a distinct difference.

"Oh…" Bobby rubbed the back of his neck and took a seat dejectedly as Remy strained the peeled potatoes before tossing them back into the empty pot.

"What do you think you're doing?" Rogue demanded of Remy as he picked up a jug of milk.

"Can't have proper mashed potatoes without milk, _chère." _He informed her.

"No." Rogue snatched the milk out of his hand. "Didn't your mama ever teach you that the only way to make decent potatoes is with _cream?_" She rolled her eyes and threw open the fridge, pulling out the proper carton.

"'m working with what I can get, _chère." _He chuckled. "Did you know that this place doesn't even have real butter?"

"Oh, I know!" Rogue nodded fervently as she poured the proper amount of cream into the pot of potatoes. "It's a blasphemy."

Remy laughed at her easily as he tossed another six breaded chicken legs into the hot oil. Rogue took it upon herself to add margarine, salt and pepper to the potatoes before digging out the masher from a drawer and getting to work. She tended to the green beans as Remy stirred the jambalaya. Rogue took up the task of making some rolls, declaring Remy's supper to be lacking without them. They chattered and laughed, picking up a conversation about how they missed the south. They talked about everything from jazz to mud.

Bobby slumped in his seat and watched them darkly. By the time supper was done cooking he had come up with a new list of reasons he should despise Gambit.

* * *

"What in the world is all this?" Ororo gasped as she walked in to the dining room to find Rogue and Remy setting the table, an obscene amount of food set out in the center.

"Supper." The both answered in unison.

"What brought all this on?" Ororo smiled as she stepped forward.

"Just thought I'd give back a little." Remy shrugged, setting down the last plate at the end of the table. "Y'all have certainly given ol' Gambit more than 'e deserves."

"That's very kind of you, Gambit." Ororo beamed, obviously having forgiven him for his earlier disturbances.

"Don't think much of it." Remy waved away her acknowledgement. "'Sides, nothin' would have gotten done proper-like if Rogue here hadn't intervened and called me a- what was it now, _chère?"_

"A can't-cook, butter-burning hack." Rogue grinned from where she was folding and setting out napkins.

"Charming, ain't she?" Remy rolled his eyes as he turned back to Ororo.

Ororo looked from Remy to Rogue and back again, a knowing grin curving her lips as she listened to them banter. "Well, I'll go collect everyone for dinner then, shall I?" She said lightly before turning out of the room.

* * *

"This is the best thing I have ever tasted." Jubilee moaned with a mouth full of fried chicken. "_Ever."_

The masses gathered nodded their heads in ready agreement, mouths too full to vocalize.

"Glad y'all like it." Remy sat back in his seat, pushing his sunglasses up on the bridge of his nose, his own plate empty.

Jean Luc had always taught him to be aware of relationships. Friendships, romances, feuds. It was necessary for survival in any setting. He had spent his entire day testing his boundaries and unraveling the pyramid of power in the institute, but he hadn't been exposed to enough of the school at one time to get a true grasp of its relationships.

The solution?

Food.

_Tante _Mattie had informed him upon many occasions that, 'Good food brings everyone together, Remy. Now hand me that spatula and stop trackin' dirt in my kitchen 'fore I bust y' int' next week'.

So, he had undertaken the chore of dinner for the express purpose of observation.

His covered eyes swept around the table.

Xavier sat at the head of the table, talking calmly with Summers. Marty and Regan were chatting idly to each other, sedate for the moment, occasionally taking sips from the cup they shared. Kitty and a tall, broad shouldered man that Remy hadn't met yet were talking animatedly, Kitty laughing freely as one would with a friend, the colossus shyly smiling with the reservation of a boy in love. Ororo and the Wolverine were conversing, and even from a far Remy could tell that Logan was doing his damndest to rile her up. Jubilee was gossiping loudly with anyone who would listen. Betsy was laughing with a blond man with striking white wings protruding out of his back. A handful of children goofed around at one end of the table, playing with their food and talking with their mouths full. A few small groups of teens and young adults had divided off into chatting groups. And then, at the farthest point from Remy that the table allowed, Bobby sat, shoulders hunched, glaring an icy blue hole into Remy's head, his girlfriend sat next to him, practically ignored.

Remy noted that Rogue wasn't really complaining. In fact, the girl seemed to be so wrapped up in the first southern meal she had eaten for almost a year, she noticed very little of anything. Her eyes were closed and she savored every bite.

It almost made Remy happy that he'd had a reason, unsavory though it had been, to cook dinner. In fact, if she ever expressed interest in cooking with him, he'd do it again in a heartbeat.

"Aren't you going to eat, mister?" A little girl sitting to his left asked.

"_Non._" Remy responded with a smile. "Not too hungry right yet."

"Oh." She chewed on a roll and continued to stare at him.

"Is there something I can help y' with, _petite?_" He asked gently when he realized that she hadn't turned back to her food.

"Why are you wearing sunglasses?" She asked brightly.

"'Cause my eyes are real sensitive to the light." He answered semi-truthfully.

"Oh." She said again and returned to nibbling on her roll.

"Anythin' else there, _petite?_" Remy inquired when he noticed the she had not yet switched attentions.

"My name's Cassie." She smiled a smile that missing two front teeth. "I can spell it."

Remy laughed. "My name's Remy. I thinkI can spell it."

"I can do my numbers too." She smiled again proudly. "Wanna hear?"

Remy grinned at her and settled himself in for the long haul. "Shoot."

Across the table, Rogue was chewing contentedly as she thought about how she'd love to do a dinner like this again sometime. If Remy ever asked her to, she'd cook up another meal in a heartbeat. This had been the most fun she had had in ages.

She glanced over at him as he nodded animatedly to whatever the little girl at his left was talking about, occasionally breaking off to laugh grandly or correct the child gently.

She noticed that he unconsciously tugged his gloves up his wrists and pulled his sleeve over the hem, and she was left again to wonder what _he _had to hide with his gloves. Rogue wore gloves because she absolutely had to. They were a curse. _Her_ curse. Why did he subject himself to them willingly?

When the girl gestured so wildly with her arms she nearly slipped off her chair, Remy reached out deftly and steadied her without missing a beat.

Rogue couldn't help the grin that split her face, followed shortly by the thought; _I've never seen Bobby do anything like that. _

A stab of guilt pierced Rogue's chest, wiping the grin clean off her face. It didn't matter if Bobby was good with children or not. Bobby put up with her. Bobby was there for her. Nothing, not even the charming likes of Remy LeBeau, would pry her away from that. Remy wouldn't put up with her like Bobby had. Remy wouldn't be there for her like Bobby was.

Rogue looked back down at her plate. She reached out to squeeze Bobby's hand. The fabric of her gloves was thick between them.

"Well," Xavier drew everyone's attention to the head of the table once everyone seemed to be done. "I think we should all take a moment to thank Mr. LeBeau and Rogue for preparing such a pleasant meal for us, and I think we are all in agreement in saying that it was a welcome relief from the pizza and carryout." There was laughter. "Anytime you'd like to grace us with a meal again, we're very willing to accept." He smiled warmly at the two. "And, it only seems fair that, since you two prepared the meal, everyone else should have a hand in cleaning it up." His smile turned more to the amused side as he looked around at the other students.

With those words, supper was officially concluded.

"C'mon!" Cassie called as she shot out of her chair, dragging Remy with her. "I drew some pictures! Come see! Then we can play a game!" She giggled as she pulled a laughing Remy with her out of the room.

Rogue watched after them with a soft smile on her face.

_

* * *

She watched him from her spot in the observation booth as he lay sprawled out across the ground in the media room with a coloring book and a child. It felt like she hadn't done anything _but _watch him throughout the day. Of course, she had done other things. She had classes to attend to and things throughout The Institute to regulate, but her thoughts had always been with him._

_When she had finally had time to get back to the cameras and the screen she fell for him still farther with every second she observed. _

_He could cook. _

_He was good with children. _

_He was a bit on the flirtatious side with every girl that walked his way, but that sort of thing was something he could be trained out of. _

_But still. Something was bothering her. _

_Rogue. The nuisance. She had been with him. They had cooked together. Laughed together. While Drake was still in the room even. _

_The girl was getting bolder. _

_This was vexing to say the least. However, it had only been one day. And though she had realized from that first fateful look into the camera that this was love, she had yet to strike up a conversation or really introduce herself. But, she knew that when she did, he'd know like she knew. This was love. This was _meant to be.

_No one, not even the untouchable likes of that Rogue could tear her away from that._

_

* * *

_

]:{o (It's a mustachioed shocked face...)

_NEXT CHAPTER, DARLINGS! BAHAHA! _


	6. Fire in the Gates of Hell!

_Warning: If the image of burnt flesh peeling off of hands disturbs you, sucks to be you this chapter. _

* * *

6. _Fire in the Gates of Hell! _

Bobby Drake _hated _his roommate. With a fiery passion that radiated with the heat of the inferno of several thousand suns, he _loathed _him.

If it had just been one or two things, like how he was almost always shuffling a deck of cards in that irritating clattering way that drove Bobby insane, or how he wore sunglasses all the time so that Bobby was left only to _feel _when he was being watched, he could have handled it. Maybe if he saw more of him and had time to get used to him, unlike how it had been three days since Bobby had even seen the man in their room, he could handle it. Or maybe if the man made _sound _when he walked, giving Bobby any sort of warning that the next time he turned around from his computer there was going to be a Cajun lounging on the other bed in the room, preventing Bobby from screaming so loudly that Logan would barge in and ask what happened, he could handle it. Or, maybe if he used the _door to_ get into the room, (Bobby had never witnessed it, but he was almost positive that the Cajun slid in through the window) he could have handled it. Maybe it was the way he always wore long sleeved shirts and fingerless gloves, even though it was summer that drove him insane. Maybe it was the trench coat. Or how he had an eternal five o'clock shadow. Or how he seemed to be everywhere and nowhere all at the same time.

As it was, Bobby was developing an acute case of 'The Paranoia'.

Symptoms included mounting a mirror over his desk so that he would be able to see behind him, constantly thinking he was being watched, checking and re-checking the lock on the window, waking up at odd hours with the express reason of checking to see if the bed on the other side of the room was empty or not, and a weird twitch in his eye whenever he heard cards being shuffled.

And it had only been _a week._

"Just breathe, Bobby." He talked to himself as he glanced in the mirror again. And then he glanced over his shoulder because he didn't trust the mirror. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that the bed was empty and the lock on the window was still fastened tight. He turned back around, smiling happily.

"Boy, you are losing it." Gambit commented from his spot leaning in the doorway.

Bobby screamed so loudly the people in the room next to them started banging on the wall.

"You done?" Gambit cocked an eyebrow as his screaming finally tapered off.

"We need to get you a bell or something." Bobby slapped his hand over his heavily thudding heart.

"_Mon père _used t' say that same thing all the time." Gambit chuckled, laying down leisurely on his pristine bed. No. 'Laying' was the incorrect term. He _collapsed _onto the bed. He _flung _himself unto the mattress. The piece of furniture was lucky to still be in one piece.

"Your who?" Bobby had taken Spanish.

"Nevermind." Gambit sighed.

There was an awkward silence where Bobby couldn't decide whether Gambit was looking at him or the wall behind him.

"Is there something you wanted to say t' me there, tiger?" Gambit smirked after a few moments of Bobby staring and shifting awkwardly.

In fact, there were several things Bobby wanted to say to Gambit. Most of them were suggestions of things he could do to himself; some of them were simple statements detailing exactly what Bobby thought of him, and a few baffled questions on how he might have been a ghost.

"What do you want with my girlfriend?" Bobby blurted, the first thing he wanted to say just flooding out of his mouth in a torrent.

Gambit cocked an eyebrow at the boy's lack of tact.

"Your girlfriend?" He smirked.

"Rogue." Bobby clarified darkly, smothering his fidgeting by sitting on his hands. "You flirt with her."

"I flirt with everyone." Gambit shrugged noncommittally and comfortably settled himself into the mattress.

"You don't call everyone '_chere'._" Bobby pointed out.

"You don't call everyone 'Kitten'." Gambit shot back without even looking.

Bobby flushed.

"That's not the same." He tried to argue.

"How so?" Gambit raised an eyebrow at him, the mildest hint of annoyance growing in his tone. If he had been able to see his eyes, he would have witnessed them narrow with equal parts irritation and contempt.

"Well," Bobby stuttered. "It's… because… because it's not, alright!"

"Y'r right," Gambit drawled slowly, dangerously. Bobby noted the increasing coarseness of his accent, which couldn't mean anything good. "It is dif'rent f'r an untied man t' flirt wit' a couple 'a _filles _den f'r a man in a relationship t' cheat on 'is girlfriend who relies on 'is dependability like de sun."

Bobby swallowed thickly. Angrily. He groped around for the proper thing to say, to spit, to get Gambit off his back. He wanted to burn him with some scathing remark. Bobby wanted to drive Gambit insane the same way he had been slowly whittling away at his sanity over the course of a week.

"You don't understand why I'm stuck with her." Was all he could come up with. And he couldn't have said anything worse.

"_Stuck with her?" _Remy asked in a cold tone. His eyes burned through the dark lenses of his glasses. Bobby could hear the leather of his gloves straining around his knuckles as he clenched his fist. "_Stuck with her." _His tone delved deeper into the arctic depths, rumbling with a growl in his throat.

A spark of pink fizzled across his fingers.

"I…" Bobby swallowed, scooting backwards on his chair, away from Remy. "I didn't mean…"

Gambit, snorted furiously and threw himself from the bed, pacing from one end of the small room to the other. Bobby watched warily. Remy was indignant on Rogue's behalf. Growing more furious by the second. The boy didn't even _pretend _to have an excuse for his actions. He didn't even have the decency to look ashamed. The _impudence. _

And then to imply that Remy wouldn't be able to comprehend the '_complexities' _of Bobby's situation, further implying that there _was _a reason he was cheating on his girlfriend that he wouldn't share.

But, there was no reason for that sort of disloyalty. To believe that there could be was simply to expose your own _stupidity. _

_Fury _boiled in the center of his chest. Malice. Wrath.

Stuck with her?

_Stuck with her?_

The fool! The _idiot. _

"_Imbécile!" _Remy spat suddenly, rounding on Bobby. The festering displeasure he had acquired for Bobby over the course of the week boiling over. The burning of his eyes was detectable through the tinted lenses of his sunglasses. "_You make her dull! She'd gone and landed herself with the only boy she think'll take 'er, and 'e turns out t' be an ass! You think you're stuck with her? She's stuck herself with you! You- you-" _His balled fists started to glow almost imperceptibly as he advanced on a fearful Bobby. "_Vous cochon!" _His fingerless gloves seemed to burst into an intense pink, nearly a violent shade of purple flames and he gasped out in pain, distracted from his anger.

"What's wrong?" Bobby demanded, taking an involuntary step backwards, eyes wide with panic and, believe it or not, concern.

"_Merde!" _Remy hissed with pain, collapsing to the ground. "Get back!" He shouted when he noticed Bobby taking a hesitant step forward to try and help him, wasting precious seconds. He bared his teeth as he stripped off his gloves, eyes watering in pain as the freshly scorched flesh was revealed, some of his burned skin peeling away with the glove. "Open the window!" He commanded Bobby, no room in his tone for argument.

Bobby scrambled across the room, skirting around the fallen man. He fumbled with the lock on the window for a moment, a precious moment, but finally threw the window open.

"Move!" Remy boomed, hurling the still blazing gloves through the frame.

Bobby watched out the window with wide eyes as the gloves combusted spectacularly as they struck the ground, fire and smoke billowing from the deep crater they had left. There was no sign of the gloves left.

Bobby turned around, bewildered and panicked. "Is that your mutation?"

"_Oui." _Remy grunted, still crouched on the ground, his hands tucked into his stomach. His face was pale. His hands trembled with pain and the sudden chill that was settling in. Words were coming to his mind slowly as he tried to think of something, anything, to say. His mouth could barely form the one French word he had stuttered out.

He vaguely recognized the signs of Shock.

"Are you alright?" Bobby asked again.

Remy moved his head. He wasn't sure in which direction.

"What was that?" Ororo demanded, bursting into the room, not even bothering to knock when the safety of her students was possibly at risk. "Is sounded like an explosion!" She looked around wildly.

"Uh…" Remy swallowed, burying his hands deeper in his shirt. "'s… nothin'?" He tried.

Ororo peered out of the open window that Bobby was still standing next to.

"Did you do that?" She shrilled, the sight of the divot left in the outside half of her garden nearly driving her to hysterics.

"Sorry_." _Remy apologized wanly, eyelids drooping heavily. The room was spinning and the blood from his hands started to soak through his shirt.

"Are you—" Was all he got out of Ororo's concerned question before the lights went out.

* * *

"It's healing up nicely." Hank commented as he probed around the back of Rogue's head.

"Can I start sleeping through the night again?" Rogue asked hopefully.

"What?" Hank's brow wrinkled. "Logan was instructed to stop waking you early after the first two days."

"Ah'm gonna kill 'im." Rogue growled.

Hank chuckled. "The other good news is that you can run Danger Room simulations again."

Rogue rolled her eyes and started to gripe, only to be cut off by the electric hiss of the doors sliding open.

"Hank!" Ororo called, her voice practically the personification of alarm. Rogue and Hank whipped around, startled by her tone. Rogue's blood ran cold as she saw Storm stumble in backwards, her hands hooked under Remy's arms, Bobby carrying his feet. The man himself was unconscious, a stain of blood pooled on his shirt, his hands were raw, blackened in some places, and marred with mottled burns, blood dripping from his fingers and leaving a trail across the floor.

"What happened?" Hank demanded as he abandoned Rogue, stripping away his latex gloves as he moved to Ororo's side.

"Bobby!" Rogue gasped in horror. "What did you _do _to him?"

"_Me?_" Bobby puffed with outrage as he helped haul Gambit's body onto the table. "He did this to himself! We were arguing and he lost control of his mutation! His gloves caught on purple fire!"

"Move." Hank snapped as Bobby lingered. "Rogue," He called over his shoulder. "Grab me the shears from the top drawer of the counter." He ordered as he sorted through a different drawer, pulling out saline.

"Got 'em." Rogue jogged up to Hank's side, scissors in hand.

"Cut open his sleeves." He instructed as he pulled out rolls of gauze from another drawer. "Quickly!" He ushered her forward when he noticed she was looking at him in disbelief.

"Alright," She swallowed as she tentatively walked to Remy's side. Even in unconsciousness, the barest hints of pain creased brow, turned down his lips. She tried not to look at his hands any more than she had to as she peeled up the end of his sleeve, slicked to his skin by blood, and cut the sleeve up to mid-elbow. As she did, she started to feel nauseous.

Across his wrists, travelling almost the length of his upper arm, were the scars of burns long past. Some were silvery and worn to almost nonexistence with age; others were puckered and pink. Newer. Angrier. They spider-webbed across his skin.

And, oddly enough, in the middle of the chaos, the bleeding, and the faint smell of burnt flesh, the only thought that occurred to her was '_Like his eyes.' _

It was an odd, incomplete thought, and it didn't really make sense, not even to her.

_Like his eyes._

He hid the scars, like his eyes. Maybe he was ashamed of them. Afraid of them. Hated them.

Like his eyes, she'd accidentally torn away the barrier he kept between the world and them.

And, like his eyes, in a twisted way, she thought they were… Interesting. Terrifying. Damning. Unique.

Beautiful.

She closed her eyes and swallowed, the thoughts skittering through her mind making her stomach churn.

He couldn't control it.

He understood. Understood everything. Understood her.

* * *

_I remember when I wrote this I said to myself "Gurl," (Because I speak to myself in a voice that of a sassy black woman) "If you light that boy on fire one more time-"_

_And I said, "I know, I know. I'll keep him out of the hospital next story, promise!'_

_And then there was an awkward pause before I interrupted myself with: "That pyscho-stalker bitch is _not _gunna like this." _


	7. Who gives the orders here?

7. _Who gives the orders here? _

Remy was lashed to a pole in the middle of a corn field. He didn't know exactly _why_, but something told him not to question it. That this was normal. That, even if he hadn't realized it, he had always been there, in the middle of the corn field. Trapped. A vast nothingness surrounded him. Just the corn stalks that swayed in the dull wind. The same wind that touched the brim of his straw hat with light fingers, brushing the shadow in and out of his eyes. The hot sun beating against his back, baking his flannel shirt. He could feel the sweat trickle and collect on the back of his neck, under his chin, across his brow. Too hot. _Too hot_. It felt like he was on fire.

He swallowed thickly, searching for some relief from the heat.

There was no relief. No reprieve. The only thing that distracted was the piercing of pain as sharp talons punctured his shoulders, drawing blood.

The crows.

The crows settled themselves across his shoulders and glared at him with blue eyes.

So blue.

Too blue.

Almost violet.

He knew those eyes.

The crow closest to him bobbed closer, its beak parted right next to his ear. And, even as he tried to squirm away, he could feel its hot breath against his skin.

_"Caw!" _The crow shrieked.

It was laughing at him.

The other crows took up the chorus. 

They were all laughing at him.

Each 'caw' sounded more like a 'hah' until the murder was crowing with laughter.

"Stop it!" Remy hissed and attempted to lunge for the birds.

"_Hah! Hah! Hah!" _ The crows mocked as he struggled vainly against his restraints.

"Go away!" He shouted, fury burning almost as hot as the sun beating against his skin.

"_Hah! Hah! Hah!" _

He was about to snarl again, lash out, hiss, growl, lunge, anything he could manage, but a soft, barely audible sound, snatched his attention. Away from the taunting laughter. Away from the piercing talons. Away from the scorching heat. Away from the baking sun.

"Logan," The sweet voice gasped, full of fret and discomfort, coming from just beyond his line of sight. "Did you hear that?" A coil of tentative fear rolled through the words.

There was a gruff grunt for response.

"Oh no, Logan," The same voice gasped, louder, closer than before. "The road splits up ahead. Which way do we go?" The owner of the voice stepped into his line of sight and he found himself gaping at a beautiful girl. It was her eyes that caught his attention first. Bright, shining beacons of brilliant green. They were clear and warm. Not uncomfortable and hazy like the field of corn, the beating heat, the dripping sweat, the pain of talons, the embarrassment of laughter. The next thing he noticed was her hair. Two braids of dark hair down the side of her head and two streaks of white that framed her face. Then he noticed her hands, delicately covered by gloves. Then her lips, and then the slope of her neck, the curves that were contoured by the light blue dress she wore, the legs, and then, very last, the shoes.

Bright red.

Painful red.

Blood red.

Ruby red.

Just behind her trotted a stout, burly man with black hair and a cigar.

"It really depends on where you're going." Remy heard himself say. "But that way's very nice." He commented, gazing down one of the branches off the path. Of course, he didn't actually know whether it was nice or not, he had never been. But he had imagined.

"Who said that?" The girl gasped, turning the wrong direction to see him.

"I did." He answered.

"Who?"

"Me."

"Where?"

"Here."

She finally turned so that her eyes landed on his suspended form. The crows that had settled across his shoulders fluttered and repositioned pompously under the gaze. He could _feel _their disdain for her.

"_Hah! Hah! Hah!" _The laughed at her.

The man behind her popped a set of three claws out of his fist with a short, sharp _snikt _and the crows fell silent shortly before deciding that this wasn't exactly the place they wanted to be.

The girl didn't look away once. She didn't acknowledge the field, the laughter, the heat, the crows, their mocking violet eyes, nothing. Her green stare stayed locked on him.

"How did you get stuck up there?" She asked, innocent curiosity filling her voice.

"It's my eyes." Remy said sullenly. "They're supposed t' scare away the crows."

"Let me see." The girl stepped forward. "They can't be that bad." She reasoned.

"Don't look." He pleaded, angling his head downwards, the brim of his hat covering his eyes, shielding them from her view.

"Let me see?" Her voice held an edge of a question this time, softer than before. A request. Optional. Her slender fingers met the bottom of his chin, and they were cool. Relief. He allowed these fingers, her graceful hand, to tip his chin upwards.

He looked up into her eyes. He waited for her to flinch away.

To his eternal shock, and even a little awe, her lips curved gently into a smile. "No wonder you had trouble scaring away the crows." She grinned. "Your eyes are gorgeous, stupid."

"Stupid?" He repeated. His brow furrowed. "I ain't stupid! Look at 'em! Look at all the trouble they've gotten me into! Look at where I am! I wan' 'em gone!" `

"Then you should come with us!" The girl smiled brilliantly, his outburst having little to no effect on her. "We're going to see The Professor. He's going to help me get rid of my skin. Maybe he can help you, too."

"I can't." Remy frowned, the prospect of someone getting rid of their skin seeming no more unnatural to him then the prospect of him wanting to get rid of his eyes. "I'm stuck."

She smiled warmly and took a step forward, however the boldness of her smile didn't reflect in her movements. She stepped off of the golden road underneath her feet and into his corn field, the hesitance in the step obvious, but she didn't turn back. He didn't know what he would have done if he hadn't been immobilized, but he felt the urge to step away from her as she got close, her cool breath brushing his neck just where the crow had been. She looked straight into his eyes as her hands smoothed over his arms until her fingers met the thick twine that help him captive. She yanked at it harshly, but there was no give.

Any hope that had been swelling in his chest crushed and his head dropped.

She growled with frustration, yanking again, only causing the twine to rub against his wrist, welting his skin.

"'S alright." Remy mumbled into his chest, not wanting to see her, the very relief from the corn field she embodied. "Jus' leave me."

She snorted in a very unladylike fashion and the sound was full of bitterness and scorn.

His head snapped up, confused.

"Sugah," She put her hands on her hips and glared right into his eyes, unflinching. "Ah can just about garuntee yah that outta all the gin joints in all the world, yours ain't the shabbiest."

And something about her powerful inflection upon the words made Remy feel that he should be ashamed of himself for wallowing in his self-pity.

"Logan!" She shouted over her shoulder.

Two '_snikt'_s and a half a second later Remy was on the ground.

"_Merci!" _He laughed grandly, standing unsteadily, his legs unused to being used. "_Merci, merci, merci!" _He hugged the girl. She squirmed slightly under his touch, uncomfortable, but didn't reject the hug.

"What's your name?" She asked when he finally pulled away.

"Gam-." He started to say, but stopped himself when he noticed her brow crinkle with confusion and distress. "Remy. Name's Remy."

She smiled at him. "I'm Anna."

Her smile was contagious. "Anna." He tested out the name on his lips.

Logan growled sharply, attracting their attention back to the golden road laid out at their feet.

"Oh, right." Anna shook herself.

"Shall we?" Remy grinned at her, offering her his arm.

She grinned right at him, looping her arm through his.

The bare skin on her arm brushed against his and—and—

And what?

What happened?

Everything vanished in a bright white light. There were voices and pain.

"Ah!" A gasp ripped itself from Remy's lungs and he found himself struggling, fighting to sit up.

Everything was real suddenly. He could feel it. Smell it. Hear it. It was too abrasive, too odious, too loud.

"Someone! Hold him down before he hurts himself!" He heard someone command.

"Get offa me!" Remy shouted as hands tried to grab at him. Everything was too bright, too slow, too painful.

Too bright. Couldn't see. Couldn't focus.

The sun?

Hot.

Crows.

Laughter.

They were laughing at him.

"Leave me alone!" He tried to get away, but they clung, hands on his shoulders. _In _his shoulders. Piercing. Pain. "Let go!"

"He has to stay calm!" More shouts. "If he gets too worked up, he could charge something else unintentionally."

"Let go!" He screamed again. In desperation he called out for the only person he knew would come if she could. "_Bella!_" He was breathing so heavily he thought he might break his ribs. _"Belle!" _

"Let him go!" Someone shouted, and the hands drew back, probably more in shock than from the actual command. "Where are his sunglasses? What _the hell _did you do with them?" The voice demanded as he shrunk away, trying to put as much distance between himself and the crows as possible. "You didn't think he needed them? _You didn't think he needed them? _Gimme those! You're his roommate, not his mother!"

He winced away from the harshness of the voice, shrinking backwards.

"You're distressing him further-."

There was a tested breath that interrupted the previous sentence and Remy could only imagine the glare that was paired with it. "I've got this."

He felt someone approach him, slowly, cautiously.

"Remy?"

"What's wrong with m' hands?" He gritted out, eyes watering with the sting of pain as he tried to clench his fists. "Where's Mattie?" He demanded. "She's the only one-." He choked on the words, confusion, pain, the heat of anger, and the chill of panic causing his throat to close.

"Shh," The voice crooned soothingly and he felt a cool hand, a sharp contrast from the heat, from the reality, settle on his shoulder. "Calm down, Remy." The hand moved up to cup the side of his face. "Will you do that for me?" The voice asked, feather soft.

"M' glasses?" He clutched at the hand like it was his only tether to reality.

"I got 'em right here." A familiar weight settled itself on the bridge of his nose and he gasped with relief.

The world was dulled just enough that he could take it in. Slowly at first, the peripherals clearing fastest, but the clarity spread until he realized he was on the ground, a pair of cool, sharp, dazzling green eyes staring at him in concern.

"Anna?"

"Sh," She hushed him gently, running her fingers through his hair soothingly, distracting him as her other hand moved up his leg, mid-thigh. "It's gonna be alright, sugar."

There was a sharp, stinging sensation in his leg. Hissing in pain and baring his teeth like a caged animal, he looked down.

"It's gonna be alright."

A hypodermic needle stuck out of his thigh, the plunger pushed all the way down.

"It's gonna be…"

He felt the sedative take effect, befuddling everything, replacing the sharp contrast of reality with the smears and smudges of a drug-induced calm.

He slumped down to the ground.

Rogue whispered soothing words into his hair until his black eyes finally closed and his breathing steadied into a normal rhythm before looking up and around at all of the faces in the med bay, confusion coloring her face.

"Who's Bella?"

_

* * *

_

(HOOK!) I do believe apart from the Wizard of Oz (which I'm totally gonna bring back again because I'm in love with it for some damn reason) I may have made a Casablanca reference somewhere in there…. Uh… whoops?

_Motherfrikkin Bella. As if we didn't have enough to worry about. Crap! _

_Next Chapter: Let's see what Creepy Stalker has been up to, shall we?_


	8. I went to the store to get more FIRE

_Vas? VAS? Nien, your eyes do not decieve you, today is Tuesday. I have a doctors appointment tomorrow so I won't be able to get at a computer, so I was all like 'By jove, Watson! I can simply update my posted story a day earlier to avoid conflict with my schedule! Verily!' _

_I love plot monsters, how 'bout you? I love plot monsters, yes I do. _

_

* * *

_

_8. I went to the store to get more FIRE-_

She was furious. Practically writhing with malice.

She didn't know when it started to build, when it had grown from a simple 'anger' into 'fit of malevolence', but it had probably been around the time that Gambit had been hospitalized.

The loop of film from the security camera poised in the hallway of the male's wing rewound for the sixteenth time, backtracking from the moment Munroe and Drake were dragging Gambit's limp form out into the hall to Munroe bursting in to the door to the tremors of an explosion to a few minutes of silence and then, finally to Gambit coolly, silently opening the door after sauntering down the hall.

The feed paused momentarily so that she could appraise his looks, calming slightly at the familiarity of seeing him before the fury flared back up and the picture on the screen began to play forward again.

He walked down the hall. Nothing unusual. Cards being palmed between his hands, face set in a half-covered mask.

He paused a moment, barely a half a second in front of the door where she could only assume he was listening to what was going on inside. A smirk flitted across his face.

He opened the door, stepped inside, and—

The video ground forward at double pace, skipping over the minutes she didn't have.

It resumed normal pace when Munroe entered the room, face full of concern.

Her anger flared.

What had she missed? What had happened in those minutes she didn't have? Had he attacked Drake? Had Drake attacked him? Why had he been the only one injured?

Internally, she screamed, ground her teeth, pulled at her hair, stomped her feet, writhed with frustration and utter fury.

Externally, the tempered calm of the observation booth didn't change.

The feed on the screen changed from the past in the male's wing to the present in the medical bay.

She didn't know who she hated more at this particular moment: Drake or Rogue.

Drake had hurt the man she was enamored with, yes, but it was Rogue who was coddling him in the medical bay, hissing like an alley cat whenever anyone attempted to approach him. But, would she have anything different?

No.

For the moment, she was almost grateful for Rogue. She was keeping that hack of a doctor and The Professor –that infuriating dreamer—at bay. She was seeing to it that he was never discomforted. And, for that, there was lenience towards her. Rogue was protecting the man that meant the world to her, and, if she hadn't found Rogue to be such a nuisance, she would have considered maybe even rewarding her.

But, as it were, Rogue was still a thorn in her side.

Just, for the moment, Drake was a bigger problem.

A fury that was quickly converting itself to wrath.

The video feed on the screen shut down, defaulting back to the Xavier database. More codes and hacks were keyed in as she stretched the hand she had in every part of The Institute to its fullest extent, her intentions being deplorable ones.

_

* * *

_

What would you do if I told you that the next chapter is only half written and the one after that isn't written at all? Would you hit me? Please don't hit me.


	9. To start the war!

_ FUCKERS PUT A CAST ON ME. Apparently I bruised the bones in my wrist in addition to the carpal tunnel nonsense and now I HAVE THIS PINK MONSTROSITY ON MY ARM (alright the pink was my idea, it was the most obnoxious color they had because go big or go home)I can't move my thumb. I look like a baby giraffe's first three minutes of awkward life when I type. It's awful._

_Four weeks though, and then the cast (Which I've named Crips) comes off. I'll try not to be a failure at the update thing, but no promises. This note took legit fifteen minutes to type up coherently._

* * *

9. _To start the war! _

Hank McCoy sighed tiredly, rubbing the bridge of his nose underneath his dainty reading glasses before turning back to the computer screen he had been toiling over for the past hour.

The automatic doors hissed opened and Hank turned, pleased with the distraction.

"How's he doing?" Logan grunted as he entered, sparing the man on the table a wary glance over the rim of his coffee cup.

"I don't know." Hank admitted. "His body temperature is abnormally high, indicating infection, however, when I changed his bandages, his hands were … exemplary."

"Healing factor?" Logan leaned against the doorframe.

"Perhaps." Hank allowed. "If anything, a very minute one." He glanced back at his computer. "If I'm correct about my calculations, he should be in perfect health in three days."

"Three days, huh?" Logan spared another look at the man on the table. Three days to perfect health after the severity of those burns was nothing to sniff at. "I guess that means me and him got something in common, huh?" Logan peeled away from the doorframe and made his way to the side of the table to inspect the damage for himself.

"It would appear so." Hank grinned.

"Damn." Logan grimaced. "I thought I'd die 'fore I had anything in common with him."

Hank chuckled. "Quite."

"Where's Rogue? I thought she'd be chained to his bedside." Logan hunkered down in the seat that Rogue had been occupying for the better part of the morning.

"I sent her upstairs to get some sleep." Hank said over his shoulder as he turned back to his computer.

"Hm." Logan considered. "She seems awful attached to this kid all of the sudden."

"You haven't heard?" Hank's eyebrows rose.

"Heard what?"

"Oh my." Hank turned fully to Logan. "It seems that Rogue and Gambit have the same amount of control over their mutations."

Logan frowned. "None?"

"Minimal at best." Hank nodded. "It seems Rogue has developed a sense of kinship with the young man."

Logan's frown deepened.

Kinship.

He didn't like that.

Rogue already had 'kin' here. Logan was that kin. They had a good thing going for them. The last thing he needed was some cocky Cajun coming in and ruining that. Just as Rogue was starting to come out of her shell, too. Just as she was getting a little fire in her eyes.

He wasn't about to let some prick come in and ruin all of that.

Speaking of the prick: "_Merde." _The kid groaned himself awake, automatically going to clutch at his thigh. "Did she _stab me?"_

"Mornin' sunshine." Logan hid his smirk behind the steam from his coffee cup.

"Ah, Mr. LeBeau, awake are we?" Hank rose from his desk, broad smiles and welcome hands.

Logan saw the narrowing of the kid's devil eyes as indication he didn't trust Hank's welcome hands one bit.

"Where're m' shades?" He demanded, subtly moving backwards on the table, shoulders rolling apprehensively under his tattered shirt.

"The lights have been dimmed." Hank assured the boy. "I inferred from your earlier reaction to the intense lighting of the medical wing that it would be necessity."

"The only necessity here is m' shades." He growled deep in his throat, edging closer towards the door.

"Calm down, Gumbo." Logan's hands fell on the younger man's shoulder, halting his subtle escape and staunching his anger for a moment of shock. "Hank may have a roundabout way of explaining it, but he means well."

For the first time the full force of those unshielded red and black eyes turned on Logan, glaring with such a force Logan could have sworn they were glowing. Despite himself, Logan couldn't help but feel slightly intimidated. It wasn't everyday you were glared down by a man with eyes the color of a poisonous snake. However, true to his nature, Logan glared right the hell back.

"I'll fetch Charles, shall I?" Hank started to back away as the glaring contest dragged on longer than was natural, both of the participants too stubborn to simply back down.

"No need, Hank," Xavier said over the electric swish of the doors opening.

"Good evening," Hank smiled amiably at Xavier.

Xavier smiled and greeted him in return as he rolled over to his side where the both watched the glaring contest for a few minutes more, hoping that either of them would notice the change in the room's occupants.

They didn't.

"If I might intervene," Xavier cleared his throat loudly.

Gambit roughly shouldered off Logan's hand before turning to Xavier with a cold look. "I want out."

"Of the medical wing?" Xavier clarified. "Of course, I wouldn't be one to hold you here while Hank has given you a moderately clean bill of health."

Gambit's expression became a bit more dubious. "Oh." He scrubbed at the back of neck. "Then… why are you here?"

"I have an offer for you, Remy." Xavier smiled kindly.

Logan was about to ask who the hell 'Remy' was before he remembered that Gumbo had an actual name, too other than Gambit, Gumbo, Prick, and Mr. LeBeau. Not that Logan gave a good god damn because he found his nicknames far more appropriate.

"Which would be?" Gambit raised an eyebrow like a cocky punk and it made Logan want to punch his face in. _This _was the sort of boy Rogue was going to associate herself with. Really? _Really? _

"I understand you don't exactly have the greatest reign of control over your mutation," Xavier started conversationally and the effect it had on the kid on the cot was immediate, his relaxed demeanor instantly tensing, his jaw locking, his eyes narrowing.

"I'm workin' on it." He said darkly.

"I realize this," Xavier held up his hands peacefully, backtracking quickly. "I'm merely offering you an extra resource to side in your efforts."

"Oh." The kid repeated, his brow furrowing. "What?"

Xavier smiled. "If you'd be so kind as to follow me," He maneuvered his wheelchair expertly towards the door.

"_Un moment," _Remy called after Xavier, running his eyes quickly over every surface in the medical wind before spying his sunglasses.

"Why do you wear those?" Logan asked, not because he actually cared at all in any way, but because it allowed him to slip in the quiet implication that wearing sunglasses indoors at all times made him look like an absolute _dick_.

"I-…" Remy looked down at the sunglasses in his hands. "T' hide my eyes." He scrunched up his brow, as if the explanation even confused him.

Logan snorted in a fashion that very clearly informed the kid that was some of the dumbest shit he'd ever heard.

"Yeah," Remy smirked a little to himself. "It is pretty stupid, ain't it?" And, with more than a little hesitance, he laid the sunglasses back down.

And he turned away.

* * *

"This is the Danger Room." Xavier introduced as he and Remy stood* in the center of a wide, stainless steel dome, cords and wires stringing along from one thick panel of metal to another, a wide expanse of clean, clear floor laid out in front of them.

"I saw," Remy nodded his head up to the tech booth. "The first time I was here." He inspected the walls with interest, his mind automatically going to the default setting of comprehending how to break in and out. "Why am I here?"

"I wanted to offer you the opportunity to access the Danger Room at any time other than allotted training periods if you were feeling under any sort of stress from your mutation." Xavier smiled warmly.

Remy looked around again at the big, empty room.

"Of course," Xavier cleared his throat. "I would teach you how to turn it _on _first."

Remy grinned at the older man. "Sounds like fun."

At that exact moment in time Bobby Drake found himself climbing up the front steps of the mansion, a bag of assorted chocolate filled pastries that he knew for fact that Rogue liked (because once upon a time he had been an awesome boyfriend) as just a present. Because he was still her boyfriend. He was allowed to just get her presents.

He whistled to himself jauntily as he rooted through his pocket with his free hand, searching for his keys to the front door.

He didn't notice the security camera perched on the doorframe above him focus intently on his being, but, then again, he'd never noticed the security camera before at all.

He slid the key into place and unlocked the door without hitch, still whistling to himself, thinking of where Rogue would be right this second.

He reached for the door handle.

The second his fingers came into full contact with the metal handle, the security systems activated and 10, 000 volts of electricity coursed through his body, forcing his muscles to go rigid, clenching in jaw, and sending his eyes rolling backing his head.

Bobby collapsed to the ground.

The security system deactivated.

The key still sat in its cradle.

The door was still unlocked.

* * *

_*Remy was actually the only one standing. _

_Cripple jokes would be in poor taste all things considering, wouldn't they? Good news, though! I am in constant thumbs-up position! Sccccooooore. _

_(P.S. I bruised the bones in my wrist cage fighting…with a bear…)_


	10. Baby, now look what you made me do

_AH GAD! MAH HAND! MY HAAAAAND!_

_

* * *

10. Baby, now look what you made me do-_

Rogue sat by herself in the mostly dark kitchen as she nibbled on a broken up cookie that she wasn't actually hungry for. Her eyes roamed over to the clock above the oven and she sighed to herself for the fifth time in under twenty minutes.

"Hey, chica!" Jubilee panted as she practically sprinted into the room. "What are you doing here?" She demanded.

"Waiting for Bobby." Rogue sighed. "We had a date tonight, only I haven't seen him in almost an hour."

"Forget that!" Jubilee man-handled the bar stool Rogue was perched on, careful not to touch her as she dumped her on the floor.

"Ow!" Rogue shouted in shock as her ass hit the ground. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Gte up, get up, _get up!" _Jubilee jumped up and down, beckoning wildly at her. Rogue noticed how she had yet to actually touch her, and even though that stung a little on a subconscious level that she didn't want to admit to, Rogue was really more distracted by the pain in her ass.

"Would you calm down!" Rogue snapped, slowly dragging herself to her feet.

"If you don't hurry up we're going to miss it!" Jubilee screamed Rogue could have sworn there might have been tears in her eyes.

"I'm not going anywhere until—" Rogue began to declare until, as an absolute last resort, Jubilee grabbed on her jacket sleeve (not even her arm inside the sleeve, but the sleeve itself) and sprinted away with it, dragging Rogue along after her.

"Jubes!" Rogue stumbled after her, nearly twisting her ankle more than once. The black boots she was wearing weren't made for running. "Jubilee!"

"Y'know that new kid, Gambit?" Jubilee asked over her shoulder as they barreled down hallways.

It took Rogue a moment to connect Gambit and Remy and she nodded, her silver necklaces jangling and her hoop earrings swinging with the action.

"Guess who's totally shirtless in the Danger Room right now!" Jubilee sang, bouncing as she sprinted.

"_The hell is that boy doing in the Danger Room?_!" Rogue screeched, pulling down her short black dress as it rode up her thighs with all the sprinting.

"Who know? Who cares! He's _not wearing a shirt, Rogue!" _Jubilee dragged her into the elevator. "He's running stats right now I think," She bubbled. "He's going to be training with the rest of us! God, I hope he's slow and awkward so I can be his hand-to-hand partner. I would trip into that boy's arms _all the time." _

Rogue couldn't help but chuckle at the image of Jubilee yelling 'Oh dear!' and collapsing dramatically into a confused Remy's arms.

"C'mon, c'mon, _c'mon!" _Jubilee fidgeted like a puppy scratching at the front door as she glared at the elevator doors. "Open. Open. _Open. Open. Op-"_ The doors opened and Jubilee squealed with delight before she dragged Rogue out into the hallways and then straight into the observation booth.

"Jubes," Rogue sighed as Jubilee pushed her forward. "I should be looking for _Bobby. _We had a—" She lost her train of thought as she realized that she's somehow ended up in a magical world of abs and arms and everything is this world is good and right. You couldn't even see his scars from this height.

Then it clicked. He wasn't wearing a shirt because the one he had been wearing was blood soaked and ripped up.

"Did he come right from the med bay to here?" Rogue whipped around and demanded.

"I guess." Marty shrugged from where she was working the control panel.

"Professor X just asked us to come down and run his stats." Regan chimed in.

"And I am sure glad he did. Mmhm." Marty ran her tongue across her teeth as she looked out the window to Gambit.

"And I would thank you not to make me regret that decision, Martinique." Xavier chuckled good naturedly as he rolled his wheel chair in, giving Jubilee and Rogue an amused look. "Am I going to have to instate rules against ogling new students?"

"Then what on earth would I do with all of my time?" Jubilee asked indignantly as she pressed her face to the glass.

"I had rather hoped you would do school work."

Rogue snorted with laughter as Jubilee was too busy fogging up the window to retort.

"Aw," Jubilee whined into the glass. "Don't put on the sweatshirt!"

Rogue redirected her attention just in time to see as Logan walked into the room and tossed Remy one of the school's hoodies and she could admit to herself that she was maybe a little disappointed when he put those abs away. He zipped it up to his sternum before rolling his shoulders and bouncing on the balls of his feet a few times.

"You ready?" Logan demanded and Remy fell into a crouch. Rogue couldn't imagine what all of this was doing to his hands, but he didn't seem too bothered and he was wearing gloves, not bandages.

"_Oui._" He snorted, eyes shooting around the obstacle course set out in front of him, which was far more than the average obstacle course simply because other obstacle courses weren't invented for the express purpose of creating physical statistics. Strength. Agility. Strategy. Speed. Endurance. The list went on.

He worked his shoulders like a predator on the hunt and Jubilee squealed in anticipation.

"Go!" Logan barked and Remy was off like a goddamned shot, vaulting, dipping, and just all around _dominating the hell _out of the obstacle course.

Logan, despite every iota of his being rebelling against the very concept, was impressed. Gumbo had some legitimate talent when it came to kicking ass and taking names. But as Logan watched him bend backwards at the hips to avoid a blow from a down-sized sentinel he had the fleeting thought that maybe somehow he was cheating. He had never seen someone work a simulation this well on their first try. In fact, he'd never seen a simulation like this before. It was almost like it was specifically designed for his strengths.

And with one final, calamitous _boom _Gambit landed nimbly on his feet and swept his arms out in a showy bow, a dull sheen of sweat covering the entirety of his body as he completed his stat simulation the third fastest in mansion history.

"How-" Remy panted slightly, grinning. "was that?"

There was the sound of applause from up in the tech booth.

* * *

"Say it." Jubilee prompted as they exited the observation booth.

"No." Rogue huffed.

"Say it." Jubilee elbowed her jacket (not her ribs. She wouldn't let it bother her, though)

Rogue sighed heavily. "Thank you, Jubilee, for draggin' me downstairs so we could gape at Remy's naked- Remy!" She blushed absolutely crimson as he walked out of the Danger Room, nearly bumping into her.

Remy went quickly to apologize, but then he got a good look at her and he couldn't remember what words meant. She was wearing a black dress that's so short it should be a sin, a pair of heeled boots with zippers that ran up to her knees, black tights, a leather jacket, and about a dozen silver necklaces of varying length and thickness. Her makeup was smoky and her hair was down and everything about the ensemble screamed 'Date Night'.

And there he was, sweaty and wearing a school sweatshirt.

Dammit.

"How are your hands?" She asked before he got the chance to compliment her.

He shrugged. "Fine." Actually they were bleeding a little bit again, but he sure as hell wasn't going to tell her that.

She nodded and they both stood there awkwardly for a moment. She wanted to ask him who Bella was and he wanted to ask her where Bobby was and Jubilee wanted to ask how the hell they knew each other long enough to have an awkward moment at all.

"Alright, Gumbo." Logan grunted as he shouldered his way out of the Danger Room behind Remy, snapping a small communicator shut. He opened his mouth to tell Gambit exactly who had been on the other line, and then follow up with a pointed threat to stay away from the brunette with the white streaks because that was off limits but he was interrupted by the metallic compression on the elevator door hissing open and said other line exited.

Remy turned to see a slender woman with pale skin and a curtain of dark hair step stiffly out of the elevator. "You contacted me." She looked to Logan; her shoulders held squarely in a fashion that reminded Remy of a military stance.

"Found you a sparring partner." Logan jabbed his thumb in Remy's direction and the girl finally turned her sharp blue eyes to him.

"X23," She held out her hand stiffly. "You may address me as Laura if the informality appeals to you."

"Gambit." Remy took her hand and bit back a hiss of pain as she jarred his burns with her formal handshake.

"Your abdominal muscles are very nicely developed." Laura informed him with a sharp nod.

Remy cleared his throat awkwardly. Usually there was a little more conversation before a girl told him he had a nice body.

"I apologize if I've done something out of conduct." Laura saw his discomfort and started to panic at the social interaction. "I was under the impression that it was customary to exchange compliments upon first introduction—"

"_Non, non_," Remy chuckled and cut her off, determined not to have the relationship with his new sparring partner start awkwardly. "'S my bad," He assured her and she relaxed visibly. "And," He added with a smile. "Your hair is_ tres belle_, Laura."

He missed Rogue grinning softly at him, the encounter reminding her of his interactions with Cassie for some reason.

Laura might have blushed down to her ears, but she ducked her head beneath her black hair before Remy could see, nodding once before turning away and stalking back into the elevator.

"That was…" Remy started.

"Awkward?" Jubilee supplied.

"Painful?" Logan snorted.

"Weird as hell?" Rogue grinned.

"Brief." Remy finished.

"Yeah, well," Logan shrugged as he turned to the stairs. "Just be thankful she didn't do to you what she did to the last guy we introduced her to."

Remy looked around questioningly and Jubilee pantomimed somebody getting kneed in the groin. Remy winced in sympathy.

"Hey, Logan," Rogue called, following quickly after Logan. "Can you come help me for a minute?"

"Sure, kid." Logan grinned over his shoulder. "Whadduya need?"

"Well, Bobby and I had a date tonight but he never showed and I was hopin'—"

"He never showed?" Logan repeated, eye brows rising high on his forehead.

"No, he didn'." Rogue affirmed. "But I was hopin'—"

"That I could beat the shit outta him? Alright." He growled roughly.

"What?" Rogue shrieked, her voice carrying back down the stairs to where Jubilee was filling in Remy on the many ex-sparring partners of Laura Kinney. "No! I just need your help findin' him!"

"Oh, I'll find 'em, alright!" Logan shouted, taking the stairs three at a time.

"Logan!" Rogue shouted, stumbling after him in her heels, silently swearing that she would never wear them again. "Don't you dare!" She gasped sharply as her ankle twisted and she tripped in what would have been a spectacularly bone-shattering fall if Remy hadn't grabbed her elbow and wrenched her upright.

Logan kicked open the door at the top of the stairs and inhaled deeply, locking in on Bobby's scent. And the metallic smell of electricity, the subtle smoky smell of brunt flesh and the thick scent of chocolate.

"Logan!" Rogue scrambled out the door five steps behind him, basically supported by Remy. "If you touch one hair on that boy's head, I swear I'm gonna—"

Logan threw open the front door.

* * *

_It was a delicious scene. She couldn't have _planned _it to be any more perfect. _

_The Wolverine throws open the front door and Rogue, playing the part of the thunderstruck girlfriend, gasps and throws herself to the ground next to her unconscious boyfriend. She tries to take a pulse but –hilariously enough- her own gloves prevented it. And then she's screaming at them to get McCoy and she's sobbing these rough, gasping sobs as her hands flutter uselessly and it's _killing _her that even now she can't physically comfort the boy she professes to love. Emotionally she just can't handle the fact that when it actually came down to it – a Life and Death situation- she just can't do it. She just can't _touch him. _Gambit tries to put a hand down on her shoulder to comfort her and then she's _screaming _at him. She screams at him not to touch her. She screams at him to leave her alone. She screams at him to never even consider touching her again. _

_She's pulling at her hair and maybe it hurts even worse that in the hour that Drake was 'missing' Rogue was eating cookies and checking out Gambit's bare chest. _

_And it's just beautiful. Absolutely divine. _

_If she thought she could laugh, she would._

_It helped that she had already been in a good mood- frying Drake and then tweaking the programming on Gambit's simulation to better suit his strengths (which was for his own good. He was going to reach his full potential, and she was going to be there every step of the way) but this, this was the crowning glory of her day. Driving Rogue over the edge, forcing her to go a little bit insane- it almost put a smile on her face._

_That Laura girl, though. She was something to watch out for._

_

* * *

:O! _


	11. Cause I only came here to party with you

_Alright, I know what you're thinking! (Okay, that's a lie, you might be thinking about why silly putty picks ink off of newspapers for all I know, but let's get back to the problem at hand) 'Jamie Hook! Where in the holy hell have you been?' _

_Honestly?_

_I've been watching Supernatural, eating a crap load of skittles by myself and crying my eyes out for some damn reason. These were all terrible decisions due to the facts that A; I live on the same street as a graveyard and the copious amounts of Supernatural are making me increasingly more paranoid. B; I vomited rainbows for a good two hours. And C; I was waaaay too overemotional to write anything near coherency. Don't ask me why, I couldn't tell you. All I know is that I cried for a good hour and a half straight after listening to 'Carry on my Wayward Son' on the radio. Also Supernatural's fault, I think._

_I don't care how damn hot Jensen Ackles is or how much I want to cuddle Jared Padalecki like a teddy bear, that show's bad for my health. _

_ANYWAY: **MERRY FRIGGIN' CHRISTMAS.**_

* * *

"Come on, Rogue!" Remy huffed from his spot on the ground outside the girl's locker room, legs stretched out in front of him lazily, and his hands dragging against the ground in his very gradual slide into a horizontal position. The sounds of a shower running fast and hot echoed from the other side of the door, almost, but not quite, drowning out the sound of sobbing. "This doesn't solve anythin'!" He shouted halfheartedly.

He'd been at this for almost an hour.

"She's just bein' difficult." Logan grunted around the rim of his beer bottle. Remy hadn't been keeping count, but he was pretty sure that was brew number nine since Bobby Drake had been hospitalized. Brew number nine since Rogue had locked herself in the only place neither of them could reach her without getting an earful from a dozen half-naked girls, and possibly a few criminal charges that would require them to introduce themselves as 'Hi! My name's Logan/Remy, and I'm a sexual offender in the state of New York'. They were both still debating the pros and cons of this particular course of events.

"She'll havta come out eventually," Remy muttered mostly to himself.

"You'd think ," Logan smirked. "but that kid has a stubborn streak a mile long."

Remy couldn't help the small smile that tugged at the corners of his lips. She did have a stubborn streak, he was glad he wasn't the only one who saw it.

Logan cocked an eyebrow at Remy's stupid grin. "Would there be a point in asking what's going on between you two?"

Remy thought on the question for a long moment. There wasn't anything 'going on' between him and Rogue. Not yet, if he had his way. Not ever, if she had her way.

He could almost hear her screaming at him to get away from her. To not touch her. To never come near her again.

"Y'know… " he admitted. "I don't really know."

* * *

Out of all the high-tech nonsense that had been packed into the 'basement' of the Xavier Institute, the steam shower was Rogue's favorite. Tucked away in the darkest, dampest corner of the girl's locker room it sat in all its overly technical glory. She loved the stupid electronic mediation of the temperature on the small, fog resistant display, automatically sealing doors, and a pressure sensitive vent to pull out excess steam. It was the only place in the entire school where she could be completely submerged in the something thicker than air and thinner than water. Somewhere where she didn't need to put up and effort or front to get heat against her skin.

"You're pathetic." She mumbled to herself as she wiped at her nose, tears getting lost in the sweat and steam clinging to her pale face but her eyes were red enough that a passing glance could have informed anyone that she'd been sobbing for the last hour. "You're so pathetic you couldn't even take your _dying boyfriend's pulse_." The sobs got harder.

She planted her forehead in her palms and drew her knees up underneath her chin.

_"Come on, Rogue! This doesn't solve anything." _She could hear the tinny echo of Remy's voice.

"Go away," she sang under her breath, voice wavering and congested. "Leave me alone."

_'You're never alone, my dear.' _If Rogue had been a smidgen crazier than she was already she would have sworn that she had heard the voice out loud. As it was, though, she knew it was all in her head. She couldn't tell whether that was a good thing or not.

_I know._ She thought grimly. _Oh, do I know. I can't shake you freaks for the life of me. _

_There's a certain saying dealing with pots and kettles that I think you should look into. _

Rogue huffed a laugh through her nose, admittedly amused by one of the nameless voices in her head. She knew if she looked hard enough she could probably find its name and personality and hobbies and whatever else she wanted, but she was already feeling insane enough talking to the voices in her head with giving them names and personalities too.

_You know, _the voice continued musingly, _it's not your fault._

_That I can't even touch my own boyfriend? _She snorted, salt tears burning at her eyes again.

_That he didn't put in the effort to touch you in the first place. _

Rogue blinked. And then Rogue blinked again. And then Rogue bli- "_Holy shit!" _She scrambled upright, fumbling the automatic lock on the shower door for a few seconds before yanking it open and roughly wrapping a towel around herself as she bolted. She could hear an amused chuckle reverberate around the inside of her skull as she tore out of the door, sliding on her wet feet.

"_Chere?_" Remy shot up as she scrambled for footing, wet hair flying everywhere.

"Kid?" Logan cast his bottle aside, both of the men following quickly after the sopping, practically naked blur that was Rogue as she sprinted down the hall.

"The hell is she goin'?" Remy growled in frustration as he nearly lost any traction his boots had on the metal floors in a footprint-shaped puddle.

Rogue only paused in the half-second it took to trip the motion sensor on the medical wing's door, giving Remy and Logan the time they needed to catch up before she stomped her way over the threshold, ignoring Hank's friendly, if not noticeably and understandably confused, greeting as she stormed her way to the bedside of the unconscious form of the Iceman.

"Bobby Drake," She announced loudly despite the fact the boy she was addressing was unconscious. "We are through."

She nodded curtly and turned heel, padding her way out of the med bay before Logan and Remy had time to collect their jaws off the floor, a spring in her step and a chip on her shoulder that she finally had an idea what to do with.

_Maybe I should talk to the voices in my head more often. _She mused.

_Maybe you should. _The voice hinted cryptically.

* * *

Remy looked at Logan. Logan looked at Hank. Hank looked Remy.

"Did that just _happen?" _

_

* * *

_

She looked at Gambit, the screen in the observation booth crackling as she processed the last few seconds. She looked at Wolverine. She looked at Beast. She looked at Rogue as the harlot practically swaggered down the halls, robed only in the towel, daring anyone to challenge her decision to expose her skin with her eyes as she held her chin high.

_Did that just _happen?

_

* * *

_

I'M WORKING ON THE NEXT CHAPTER OF THAT DAY, I SWEAR!


	12. I'M SURE I HAD A CLEVER TITLE FOR THIS

_I SWEAR! JAMIE BAILS FOR A FEW MONTHS AND FF DECIDES TO JUST FUCK AROUND WITH EVERYTHING AND NOW I DON'T UNDERSTAND WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON JESUS ARGH!_

_NEVERMIND. MORE IMPORTANTLY I REMEMBERED WHERE I WAS GOING WITH THIS STORY. THAT IS ALL YOU SHOULD BE CONCERNED ABOUT. I'M ABOUT HALFWAY THROUGH REMEMBERING WHERE I WAS WITH 'THAT DAY' AND I NEED TO START FUCKING REMEMBERING WHERE I WAS GOING WITH THIS DAMN WIP I JUST FOUND ON MY DRIVE SOOOOOO. _

_HI! HOW ARE YOU GUYS?_

* * *

To say that the world Bobby Drake went unconscious in was a vastly different world from the one he woke up in to would have be a gross understatement. The first thing he was aware of in this new frontier was the scorching light above him. For a moment he thought this light was the clouds parting and beckoning come forth into heaven. His body hurt enough to qualify it. However, upon further investigation he realized that it was just the ceiling lights of the med bay.

"Bobby?" A sweet voice called out to him.

"Rogue?" his mouth tasted like cotton and lightbulbs.

"What? No. Bobby, look at me, come on."

He worked at it for a few moments before finally syncing up the signals his brain was sending out to the receptor that allowed him to sloppily navigate his head to turn to the side and see one Katherine Pryde perched at his bedside.

"Huh." was his profound remark on the matter.

"How are you feeling?" Kitty's brow scrunched in the middle as she leaned forward. "Should I get Hank?"

"'M fine," Bobby slurred, attempting to wave away her concern with a heavily wrapped hand. "I just... what happened? I had a bag of- _aw shit!" _He sat bolt upright, eyes dinner-plate wide. kitty squealed slightly in fright.

"What's wrong, are you okay?" Kitty blurted, hands aflutter as she panicked.

"Rogue! I missed our date! Shit, _shit, shit, shit," _He continued to chant as he struggled up out of bed. Things were already rocky enough with Rogue, he didn't need to add this to a long list of things.

"Uhm..." Kitty chewed on her lower lip. "I don't think that's going to be a problem, Bobby."

"What?" Bobby huffed as he awkwardly used his thumbs to unfold the jeans he had found laid out neatly on the bedside table.

Kitty gnawed on her lip a few seconds more before giving Bobby a brief rundown of 'While You Were Sleeping'.

Two days. a lot can happen in two days.

* * *

Rogue hit the mat hard and flopped twice, sweaty hair slapping the vinyl. Her under armor clung to every plane of her body, nearly soaked through with perspiration. Her eyelids were heavy, tired. She was breathing heavily through pink lips. A rosy hue had embedded itself into her cheeks.

"You alright, kid?" Logan called to her from the other side of the mat. He didn't look any worse for the wear despite the fact that their sparring match was becomming a marathon.

"Ah'm fahne," she bit off, practically chewing and spitting the words out as she collected herself onto shaky limbs. "Again."

Logan cocked an eyebrow at her. "Are you sure, kid, 'cause-"

"Ah said again." Rogue barked in a rough accent, collecting herself and stancing up gruffly.

Logan's lips twitched as he mirrored her stance and waited for her to make the first move. He'd never seen her like this. There was this drive in her eyes. Some sort of need, thirst, hunger that he didn't understand but wanted to get closer to. Three hours of absorbing his punches the Rogue from two days ago would have called it quits. Three hours of sweating and toiling and hurting and the Rogue from two days ago would have licked her wounds and slunk away.

This Rogue told him to stick it where the sun don't shine when he even suggested it to her.

"What the hell has gotten into you, kid?" Logan grunted as Rogue's elbow dug into his sternum. Not with enough force to cause damage or even actually hurt after three hours, but enough to tell him that she hadn't given up yet.

"Tired." Rogue blocked a shot sloppily, but it was still a block.

Logan shot her a mildly amused look. "Tired?" he urged.

"Tired," she reaffirmed with a snort and kick. "People think I'm some stupid invalid pity case of a little girl_," _she muttered between huffs of air mostly to herself. "They think I'm soft soft little powder puff princess that can't take care of herself," she ducked Logan's fist. "They think I'm pathetic._ It's not my fault." _

_"What?" _Logan snapped, feeling like somewhere along the conversation had involved him less and less. "What the hell are you going on about? I've never heard you talk like this before."

Rogue looked up, eyes bright shining orbs of molten jade that swam with passion and fire. Her hair was a mess, her face was aflame, sweat slicked every visible part of her but something about her eyes caught Logan and for the first time he could have sworn that she was _beautiful. _Not pretty, like she was usually in her own way, but blindingly, captivatingly, entrancingly, without a doubt _gorgeous. _

She stole his moment of distraction to punch him squarely in the face.

And even when he was staring up at the ceiling he couldn't quite shake the vision of her eyes.

She crouched next to him, panting heavily. "I've been paying attention," she alluded evasively. "Listening." For a moment she played with the idea of tapping her temple and winking before sauntering (limping, actually) away just to add another layer to the coy hint, but somewhere in the back of her mind someone hissed _no _so she simply left it at that.

Logan felt his own confusion color his face, but before he could ask any more questions Rogue announced she had a date with the steam shower and slunk away.

Listening? Logan wondered to what that could possibly mean.

* * *

_And high up in the tech booth baring witness to the entire affair, she couldn't help but wonder at the same thing. _

* * *

_Remy come back! You can blame it all on me! Sorry sorry for this I just wanted to get something out so that I could get everything flowing again_


End file.
